


Let Me Be Free

by fireflyangelxx



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, a multi chapter story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-09-19 14:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflyangelxx/pseuds/fireflyangelxx
Summary: A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuseSequel to The Perfect Day.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't come up with chapter titles for these but I'll do my best haha. There are 15 real chapters but the numbering will be off since there's a "teaser" (this one) and a prologue too

Velaris is a beautiful city meant for sightseeing and many other wonders. Known for its art industry and its gorgeous landscape, people believe that Velaris only holds great wonders. But for a few select people, they know that Velaris isn’t all sunshine and happiness, but rather it is a city like any other, with it’s rundown alleys and crime-filled slums.

Rhysand is a young man chained to his father’s will because he and his friends desperately need the money his father can provide. The subject to many of his father’s explosions, Rhys has many scars from his father and only wishes to leave this house behind and move on.

Morrigan is a young woman who has a terrible secret: she has a daughter. A victim of sexual assault only a year earlier from a gang leader, Mor has been hiding her secret from her parents since she found out. She had hid in Rhys’s house for several months under the guise that she was Andromache, her best friend and perhaps more. After giving birth, she let Andromache take care of the girl, trying to find a way to come out to everyone that not only does she have a child she will raise, but also that she is in love with a woman.

Cassian and Azriel live on the streets of Velaris, scourging up just enough money to keep them looking clean shaven and what is called to be normal. But the two of them struggle every day to find jobs, to find food to fill their stomachs, and most importantly, to find a roof to live under.

When Feyre finally returns to the city a year later, this time staying for good, she finds herself thrown into the mess that the back side of Velaris contains. She seeks for somewhere that will take her art but faces repeated failures. Feyre just wants to be herself and to give in to her imagination.

All of them have only one wish: to be free.


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

“We’re moving!”

Nesta’s voice rang out from near the living room and Feyre cracked open the door to see Nesta waving to both her and Elain. “Moving?” Feyre echoed, slipping out of her door and walking down the hall to see what the fuss was all about. For as long as she remembered, they had been living in this little town. “Where are we moving to?”

Her eldest sister gave her a small smile, which surprised Feyre. She rarely saw Nesta in a jovial mood. She found out why a moment later when Nesta said, “Velaris.”

“The City of Starlight?” Elain squealed from behind Feyre. “That’s halfway across Prythian! How did you manage to get us a house all the way out there?”

“It’s an apartment,” Nesta reassured her sisters, “and I got a job at the hospital there. Elain, you can easily get a job there as well to help pay the rent, and Feyre can apply to the university there in order to finish her degree in art.”

“We can’t afford college.” Feyre protested, though she secretly loved the idea of going to what she had once called the Rainbow City. Both titles were true for the city, for she had seen it for herself only a year before.

“I’m not letting you drop out of university.” Nesta said sternly. “Plus, you can have more opportunities in Velaris to get your art featured. The city _is_ known for its’ arts.” Her eldest turned away to gather a few bags. “We’ll leave within this week.”

Elain clapped her hands. “I’ll go pack.”

Feyre stood there, a bit dumbfounded by this new revelation. She had often dreamed about returning to the City of Starlight, where she had first tried to get her art accepted into an art studio. After her rejection, she had been delayed by a storm, which led her to meet a compassionate young man called Rhys. Feyre often thought about him, wondering if she would really one day return, because she had made herself a little promise that she would when she left Velaris the next day.

A year had passed, but Feyre hadn’t ever thrown away the business card Rhys had given her. She clutched the card that was in her pocket, unsure what to do.

Nesta gave her a meaningful look before heading out the door. “Call the studio, Feyre. Tell them you’ll be there to show them your portfolio in two weeks.”

Feyre was still standing there in shock, shaking her head slightly as she pulled out her phone, took a deep breath, and dialed the number.

\----

Rhys wished over and over he didn’t have to stay in his father’s house, that he didn’t need his father’s money to go to college. It had already been a fight to get his father to accept that he wanted to major in Design, and not attend medical school.

He fought every day to convince himself to stay at home when he wanted nothing more than to find his own place to live. He wanted to escape Velaris and disappear if it meant he could be free of his father.

But Cassian and Azriel needed the money his father provided as well. Mor needed somewhere to hide sometimes so her parents wouldn’t realize that she had a daughter of her own. She needed somewhere to go when she wanted to be alone with her daughter and Andromache, who Mor undoubtedly loved.

Rhys’s father never cared who came in and out of the house, especially when he believed that the child was Andromache’s and Mor was just a friend helping her raise the girl. But he cared when Rhys threatened to leave the house, when Rhys pushed for his father to let him stay on campus instead of forcing him to stay at home.

Sometimes Rhys wished he was invisible and could just disappear.

His cheek smarted from where the bruise was forming and Rhys closed his eyes as he leaned against the cool wall of his bedroom. He was seated on the floor, as far away as he could get from the door.

Was there no end to this? Rhys almost didn’t want to know what the future held, if it meant he was forever trapped in his father’s web. He was already trying his hardest to work as many jobs as he could on top of school so that he could save his own money and one day move out.

The day couldn’t come soon enough.

\----

Mor always felt a mixture of guilt and pleasure when she went to go visit Andromache and Lily. She was forever grateful for her best friend, who pretended to have been pregnant so that Mor’s parents wouldn’t have killed her for the baby. Andromache’s parents didn’t mind the new addition and they doted and cared for Mor’s child more than she could for Lillian. She was also grateful that they never asked questions on where the child came from as well.

Those months Mor had hidden in Rhys’s house meant that she had to lie to her parents about that summer. She had been “away” at “summer camp.” Mor had never felt more relieved when she finally gave birth and was strong enough to return home, just in time for another year of college to begin. It was easy to pretend to be normal when she was at college, away from home.

“You okay?” Andromache smiled at Mor, who felt butterflies in her stomach at that expression. Besides Lily, she had another big secret: she was in love with her best friend.

She had no idea how Andromache would take it, and if Mor should even bring it up. Andromache was already a second parent to Lily, since she was the one who cared for her when Mor couldn’t stop by. But Andromache had had multiple boyfriends in the past, and Mor was never sure if the girl only thought of her as a friend.

“I’m fine,” she reassured the golden haired girl. “Thank you again for looking after Lily.”

“I love doing it,” Andromache smoothed Lily’s blankets. “She’s adorable and honestly a pleasure. I don’t mind keeping her, as long as you always drop by so that she knows her real mother as well. It’s not fair for Lily to not grow up without her mother.”

“I know,” Mor felt guilty again, even though she knew she had no other option. She couldn’t bring Lily home--not unless she wanted her parents to scream and beat and possibly kill her.

Andromache reached out and touched Mor’s hand lightly. She almost shivered at the touch. “Don’t worry about it, Mor. Everything is going to be fine. Soon, you’ll move out and I can come with you and we can raise Lily together.” She smiled one of her pretty smiles, and Mor found herself unable to resist its lure.

“Together.” She echoed, and that was the only word that mattered to her.

It was only a matter of _when_ this freedom would come.


	3. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

Stepping into Velaris again was like pulling aside the veil in a dream and emerging into reality. The sun shone brightly above her head, so at odds of the last day Feyre had spent here, when clouds had covered the sky. Apart of her settled in and felt at home when Feyre stepped out of the airport, her sisters on either side of them.

“It’s beautiful,” Elain breathed out as she spun around once to stare at the extravagant beauty of the City of Starlight. “You weren’t exaggerating when you mentioned its scenery, Feyre.”

Feyre didn’t say anything. There was a lump in her throat as she watched a boy run by her, her mind drifting to a boy who had done the same thing, only he had run straight into her.

“Hey,” Nesta nudged her youngest sister, “snap out of it. When it your appointment for the studio?”

Feyre blinked, coming back to reality. “Not until three.”

“Good. Let’s call a cab and get to our apartment.” Nesta glanced at her phone. “I need to meet Mr. Serrano in half an hour for our apartment keys and make the first payment. Then, I need to check in for work and see if they need me to take a shift today. Elain, are you doing anything today?”

“I have a job interview at a local fashion store.” Elain replied. “It’s in an hour, but it’s very close to our apartment. I can walk myself.”

Nesta nodded and her blue-gray eyes snapping to Feyre. “Do you need me to take you to your studio appointment?”

Feyre shook her head. “I’ll take a cab or walk.” She didn’t like to be a bother for her sisters, especially when Nesta was already working so hard to ensure that Feyre could even have a chance to get a formal education here at Velaris University. Their art program was one of the best in the country, and all Feyre had to do was find the money to go.

But first...she had to get through her studio interview and see if Rhys’s father truly wanted to showcase her works.

It was going to be a long day.

\---

After meeting with Mr. Serrano and getting three sets of keys for the apartment, Nesta found Elain and Feyre waiting outside. She handed both of them their set of the keys before saying she had to leave to the hospital. Nesta knew she would have see if she could get a car for the three of them soon, but settled for walking to the hospital. Luckily it was only a few blocks from the apartment.

When she pushed open the double doors to get to the lobby, one of the assistants looked up. “How can I help you, miss?”

Nesta did her best to smile pleasantly. “My name is Nesta Archeron. I’m here to check in for my first day of work. Do you know where I can find my station?”

“Oh!” The assistant smiled back at her. “We’ve been waiting for you. The manager has asked if you can step in at the soup kitchen behind the hospital for the homeless. We’re lacking a few volunteers.”

“That’s fine,” Nesta reassured her. “I’ll help out wherever I can.”

She walked towards the back of the hospital as instructed, feeling very grounded now that she was here. Nesta had always had an affinity towards helping others, and she found that she fit easily into the role of a nurse. Her heels clicked on the smooth marble surface and Nesta rounded the corner and walked outside, squinting her eyes against the sharp sunlight.

She was so distracted by the onslaught of noise that she didn’t notice the kid until he ran straight in front of her, spilling his meal over her shirt. Nesta gaped as hot soup soaked her skin.

The boy was staring at her too, his mouth wide open. “Timothy!” A man shouted, “Don’t run with your food. Oh god--” The man caught up to the boy. “Apologize.” He scolded the young child.

“Sorry,” mumbled the boy before he went scurrying off.

The man shook his head, one hand rubbing his jaw absentmindedly. He was staring wistfully after the child and suddenly he remembered Nesta was there. “I’m so sorry that happened,” he turned to her, his hazel eyes merry and bright, “can I help you somewhere, Miss…?”

“Archeron. Nesta Archeron,” Nesta breathed out. She couldn’t help but eye his ruggedly handsome face, with his dark curls that was tied back from his face. “And you are?”

“Cassian.” The man shook her hand. “Do you need a change of clothes?”

Nesta flushed as she stared at the sorry state of her shirt. “I can just get a hospital apron,” she shook her head, “I don’t have time to get something new.”

“I have spare.” Cassian offered.

Nesta was certain this wasn’t how most first conversations usually went. “Really,” she was still bright red, “it’s fine. I can get an apron--” She turned, intending to reach for one of the volunteer aprons and found no extras. She didn’t quite want to walk around in a soaked and ruined shirt on her first day of work. “On second thought,” she said quietly, “if you don’t mind…”

Cassian just grinned at her. “Really, it’s fine. I come by here all the time so you can return the shirt whenever you want.” He rummaged through his bag and handed her a pure black shirt that was most definitely something Nesta would never wear. She thanked him profusely and excused herself to go change. The shirt was too big on her and fell almost to her knees, proof for how small Nesta was in comparison to Cassian.

The man was playing with the children when she emerged. Still embarrassed by the encounter, Nesta took a spot along the line to head pass out food in the rush of a late lunch. Half an hour flew by, but Nesta’s eyes kept flickering back to Cassian, who seemed to be watching her too as he took care of the children.

When all the homeless had left and it was just the volunteers and workers cleaning up, Cassian approached her. “Do you work at the hospital?”

“Yes,” Nesta mopped the table she was standing at, “I just moved in today with my sisters so this is my first day. Do you work here as well?”

Cassian didn’t quite meet her gaze. “No. I just come by often.”

“Volunteer?” She guessed. He certainly seemed to like being with the children, and some of the volunteers had been over there, watching over the orphanage kids to make sure they didn’t cause too much of a mess.

“Something like that.” Cassian shrugged.

There was more to his story but Nesta didn’t want to press him. She went back to the rhythm of cleaning and was surprised when Cassian took a cloth and began cleaning the table next to her. They worked next to each other and didn’t talk for the rest of the day. When all the tables were finally clean and Nesta was ready to go sign out, Cassian grabbed her arm. “I’ll see you around?”

Nesta’s throat tightened. “Yes,” she managed to say, “I’ll return your shirt the next time I work here.”

Cassian let go of her arm and watched her leave, his hazel eyes pinned on her back as she walked out. Even when Nesta was inserting her key into the apartment door, she couldn’t shake his image out of her mind.

\---

Elain checked the address again as she stopped in front of a store that was named “Elegance.” 531 Sycamore Street. Elain was at the right place.

She took a deep breath and straightened out her skirt before she opened the door and walked in. Feminine clothing littered the entire store and Elain was taken aback by the sheer amount of stock this store had. Her eyes drifted to the counter, where a gorgeous blonde female was chatting with a dark-haired man.

“Don’t worry about me,” the woman said breezily, “Andromache and I have been doing perfectly fine with Lily. Really, you and Cassian are such mother hens. Actually you can tell Rhys that he’s one too.”

The man sighed. “We’re not doubting your ability to take care of Lily, we just want to know if you want more people at hand. Andromache doesn’t have to do everything for you.” He had hazel eyes, Elain realized, and they shone brilliantly in the bright lights of the shop.

“And where exactly would you take Lily?” The woman’s voice sharpened. “Look, Azriel--”

She suddenly noticed Elain standing at the door. “I’m so sorry!” The woman pushed past Azriel, who stepped aside and watched Elain with quiet hazel eyes. “I didn’t see you there. How can I help you?”

“I’m Elain Archeron and I’m here to apply for a job here.” Elain explained, though she could barely focus on the woman when her eyes kept straying towards Azriel, who monitored the situation carefully. “Are you Morrigan?”

“You can call me Mor,” the woman smiled her, flashing her brilliant white teeth. “There’s honestly no interview you can start working whenever you’re free. Do you have time today? I’m a bit short staffed, although right now we don’t have anything coming in. Usually it’s a lot busier than this though.”

If Elain was being honest, a clothing store was the last place she wanted to work. Sure, she loved design and fashion, but Elain preferred the art of baking. In fact, Elain had always dreamed of opening her own bakery, but the sisters didn’t have the funds to rent a building and start a business.

“I can start now,” Elain agreed.

Mor turned to Azriel. “We’ll talk later.” She said.

Azriel just nodded once and walked towards the door. Elain quickly darted out of the way, mumbling her own greetings as the man walked by. She couldn’t help but notice the scars on his hands and wonder where he had gotten them. He only gave her a polite hello before he was out the door and it was swinging shut behind him.

“Come on in,” Mor smiled again to Elain. “Sorry for the strange introduction. Azriel is an old friend of mine and he was only concerned for my...friend.” Mor finished, though Elain didn’t miss the hesitation in her voice.

It was rude to pry, Elain knew, but she couldn’t help but ask after the man who had just left. “Are you and Azriel...seeing each other?”

Mor let out a startled laugh. “You’re a straightforward one. No, I’m not dating Azriel and I’ve never thought about it.”

For some reason, Elain felt slightly relieved at this fact and was instantly berating herself for it. What did she care if her new boss wasn’t dating some man who had happened to be in the store when Elain walked in? She tried to block out the fact that his short, dark hair had passed over his eyes and he was very, very handsome.

“He comes by a lot,” Mor explained, “you’ll see him around if you want to properly introduce yourself to him. He was on his way to meeting one of our other friends so he couldn’t stay long. Plus it’s almost time for the daily rush of customers, so let’s get you acquainted with the store.”

Mor walked her through the small store and explained how the racks were organized and how she could help customers who came in. “I’ll be working the register so all you have to do is herd them around and help them find whatever they want. If they want fashion tips, send them to me. Usually I have another worker around but today she wasn’t available. When she’s here though, you can ask her to help with fashion tips as well. Her name is Amren and she’s a little scary when you first meet her, but she won’t bite, I promise.” Mor winked.

She hadn’t been lying about the rush of customers that came in. Elain’s feet ached at the end of the day from rushing around, answering questions of the customers and directly them to Mor when they needed a second opinion on what they should buy. Sometimes when the line was too long, Elain helped customers choose, pretending to understand which clothes might better fit a person.

“You were great your first day,” Mor reassured her when Elain slumped against the counter, exhausted by the onslaught of customers. “It’s always this crowded here but you get used to it. It’s better when Amren is around. I’ll close up; you can go for the day and can you come in at nine tomorrow morning? I know it’s asking a lot for you to cover a whole day but...you can see how many people come in every day.”

“I don’t mind,” Elain said truthfully. The more hours she worked, the more money she could get and she would be closer and closer to her dream of having a bakery. “I can come in at nine.”

“Perfect!” Mor beamed. “Thanks for coming today.”

Elain said her goodbye to Mor and walked out of the store, only to jump at the shadow standing next to her. “Sorry,” Azriel’s voice sounded from her left. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m just waiting for Mor to finish closing up.”

The middle Archeron sister looked up at his stoic face. “It’s fine,” Elain gave him a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to wait for her.”

“I don’t like her walking alone by herself,” Azriel explained. “Do you need someone to go with you?”

Elain blushed. “No thank you. My apartment is only a block away.” She pointed at the towering building just across the street. “Thank you for the offer though.”

Azriel didn’t say anything but just dipped his head in farewell to her. Elain hurried away, tearing her eyes away from his face and ducking her head as she quickly crossed the street to her apartment. She almost wished she had asked Azriel to accompany her, only so she could talk to him a bit more and get to know him, since she had barely exchanged a few words with him upon meeting him. She wondered if he was always this quiet, or if there was more to him than the calm and collected individual.

Elain found herself excited for the next day of work if it meant Azriel would be there as well.

\---

Feyre arrived at the studio ten minutes before her appointment was set. She waited nervously in the lobby, examining the art of the walls. She was impressed by the artwork displayed and clutched her portfolio a bit harder, extremely anxious about showing Rhys’s father her work.

“Feyre!” She spun around to see a familiar pair of violet eyes seeking her out in the crowd. “You’re here.”

She couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face at the familiar sight of Rhysand. It had been quite a long time since Feyre had seen the boy, and they had never exchanged numbers. She had often wondered if Rhys had forgotten her, but it seemed he remembered her as clearly as she remembered him.

“I didn’t even know you were in town until Azriel told me Elain Archeron was Mor’s new assistant. The last name was so familiar that I _knew_ you’d be here as well. You made an appointment with my father?”

“Yes,” Feyre fidgeted, almost dropped her portfolio on the ground. “I’ve decided to take your advice and call the studio to make an appointment.”

Rhys frowned and Feyre’s stomach dropped. “My father told you to come in today?” When she nodded, his eyes darkened marginally. “That bastard,” he muttered, “he’s not even home. My father went on a business trip for two weeks and won’t be back until next Friday.”

A week from now. Feyre felt disappointed and relieved at the same time. “Do you think I can reschedule the appointment? I don’t mind waiting an extra week. It gives me more time to add to my portfolio.”

“I’ll get it taken care of and schedule you for next Saturday,” Rhys promised. “In the meantime, do you want to get dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, but this time it was from pleasure. “Sure,” Feyre agreed. She remembered the last meal they had gotten and nearly turned red from the memory. “When and where…?”

“I can pick you up at six.” Rhys looked at her expectantly.

“Do you want to exchange numbers?” Feyre fumbled for her phone and this time her folder went spiralling to the floor, spilling its contents. “Oh my god, I’m sorry for my clusiness.” She dove for her work, shuffling the papers back into the folder. Rhys knelt down next to her to help.

He lingered over a picture she had drawn shortly after she had gotten home from Velaris a year ago. “You drew the city,” he said, a wondrous tone in his voice. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never looked at the city in this light before.”

Feyre looked at him curiously. “The city is marvelous. Have you never thought of it that way?”

Rhys looked embarrassed as he handed the paper over to her and she stuffed it into her folder before standing up. He stood with her, though his eyes were pinned on his shoes. “I...the city has a lot of bad memories for me,” he admitted, “I’ve never really paid attention to the rest of its qualities.”

Feyre didn’t want to press. “Here,” she gave him her phone to add his contact in, “I’ll text you my address later. Six, right?”

“Yes,” Rhys looked relieved at the change of topic, “Your portfolio look still looks fantastic, Feyre. I have no doubt that my father will offer you a contract to showcase your work here.”

Feyre took her phone back from Rhys and smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said graciously, “I can only hope so.”

“Let me take you home,” Rhys blurted out.

Feyre was surprised by his gesture, but she didn’t want to protest. It was early for her to be returning home, but it was been an half hour walk. Feyre didn’t want to call a cab due to her limited money, but her feet rebelled at the thought of walking another thirty minutes home.

“Okay.” She agreed, following him to his car.

The drive back was quiet but comforting, and Feyre found herself reminiscing the perfect day the two of them had spent together only a year ago. She was glad Nesta had found a job here in Velaris and she got to stay here again, even if her first visit had nearly ended in a disaster.

This time would be different, Feyre promised herself as she got out of the car and thanked Rhys for the ride.

This time, Feyre thought, she would be free to follow her dreams.


	4. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

It was freezing when Mor arrived at the shop to open up and redress some of the mannequins. Rhys was prattling on about his dinner date with Feyre, and Mor had honestly zoned out by the time they had left her house and was on the road to her shop.

“Do you think she’ll be okay if I dress casual? Nobody wears a suit to dinner, right? I mean last time we had lunch and I was dressed in casual clothes. She didn’t seem to mind then but we also _just_ met…”

“Rhys,” Mor interrupted her cousin’s train of thought, a bit exasperated, “calm down, okay? Feyre sounds like she’s genuinely interested with you and you did tell me how she said goodbye.” The blonde-haired woman grinned as her cousin turned a bit red. “Plus, if she didn’t like you, she wouldn’t have said yes. Just dress nicely but no need to wear a suit, for Cauldron’s sake.”

“I don’t have any nice shirts.”

“Rhys, you’re rich. I’m sure you can come up with something. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to set up the shop. Either you can help, or you can go to your own job like you’re supposed to.” Mor gave Rhys a hard look.

“It’s not until noon.” Rhys reminded her.

“Do you plan on standing there like a fool and gawking then?” Mor bustled into her shop and began sifting through the dresses to find one suitable for the windows. “I open at nine,” she made quick work of slipping the dress off the hanger and moving to the window to stop dressing the mannequin, “you have three hours to either help or get out.”

“What do you need help with?” Rhys looked at the mannequin as if it would come alive and chase after him. “I don’t know anything about dressing statues.”

“Can you check the stock in the back? And call the fabrics shop and ask them if the orders are coming. I need new fabrics if I’m going to start making new dresses. Call Amren and ask if she’s made any new designs yet.”

“You _made_ all of these?” Rhys gaped at the store.

“Not all,” Mor said, a little embarrassed, “I make some of them. A lot of the other ones I buy from mass producers who are looking to sell their products.” She smoothed out the dress and ran her thumb over the scripted M on the hem of the shirt. “All the clothes with the M are made by me though. I just do it when I have the time or when there aren’t that many customers.”

Rhys followed her around the store until Mor finally barked at him to go do her errands so she could focus on setting up the shop. He relented only after Mor promised to buy him a drink the day after. She rolled her eyes to herself, exasperated by Rhys’s persistence, though she knew deep in her heart why Rhys had even showed up at her door today before she could even leave the house.

It happened every day. Some days it was Rhys, needing to talk to Mor about his classes or rant about his father; sometimes it was Cassian, who flirted and asked her out to bars and clubs he couldn’t afford; and other times it was Azriel, who seemed to know which days Mor would need a silent companion rather than a chatty one.

Mor always wondered if the three of them always came together and decided at her front door who would stay and walk with her to the shop and walk her home for the day. It made no difference to Mor which of the three showed up at her door, and she knew better than to ask them to stop coming.

The bell at the top of the door rang as Andromache swept into the shop at seven am sharp. “Hey!” She called out, “Thought I’d find you here already even though there are still two hours until you open.” She came over and gave Mor a hug.

“How’s Lily doing?” Mor greeted.

“Fine, fine,” Andromache grinned. “Will you be over later today to see her?”

Mor hadn’t planned on doing so since she had so many orders to deal with, but she knew she couldn’t turn down a chance to go see her daughter. “Of course,” Mor smiled at her best friend, “thanks for taking care of her.”

“Always.”

Lily, Mor knew, was the reason why her friends walked her to and from the shop. It had only been a year since the...incident, but Mor was still fighting her own fears about walking around certain parts of town. Since that day she recovered, Cassian had showed up at her door until he was too exhausted to follow her around, in which Rhys had shown up next. When Azriel arrived as well, Mor just accepted this as part of her daily routine and gave up trying to convince them to spend their days doing something else.

“Azriel came by yesterday saying that if you ever need someone else to take over, the boys would be willing.” Mor mentioned as she dusted off the counter and checked the racks one last time. “Are your parents burdened by the addition of Lily to your household?”

“I’ve told you over and over they don’t mind,” Andromache shook her head at Mor, “but the boys are welcome to come over and play with her whenever they want. Where would they bring Lily, anyway?”

Mor was suddenly glad Rhys was in the other room and that neither of her other friends were here to hear that. “You know they don’t think that far,” she replied lightly. Andromache hadn’t known the others as long as Mor had, but Mor had explained the situation Azriel and Cassian were in.

“Well tell them they should stop by my house whenever they want to see Lily.” Andromache dismissed, shooting Mor a dazzling smile. “Now come on, you need to finish setting up.”

The two spent the last hour cleaning up the rest of the store and Rhys had popped out of the room, saying Amren finished a few more designs and would be arriving shortly. “I’m going to see where Cass and Az are.” He called out to her as he escaped out the door. “I’ll be back later tonight!”

“No you won’t!” Mor shouted after him, “Feyre, remember?”

Andromache laughed as her cousin waved his hand and drove off to find their friends. “Well, I have to be off as well. I’ll see you around six?”

“I’ll be there,” Mor promised.

The two of them stared at each other, brown eyes clashing with amber eyes. Mor suddenly wished she could reach out and put her hand on Andromache’s cheek and pull her in. She wanted to kiss her.

“Bye.” Andromache said, turning, though her gaze lingered.

“Bye.” Mor murmured back to her, watching her leave.

Mor knew without a doubt that she was--and has been for awhile--in love with her best friend. Andromache had been such a kind friend, and she was undoubtedly beautiful. There were some days Mor wanted to climb to her rooftop and shout to the whole world that she was bisexual and that she wanted to ask Andromache to be her girlfriend.

But she didn’t have the guts to come out to her friends and not to mention her parents would never let her have a girlfriend. No doubt they would pretend Mor was straight and would ignore her attempts to come out. And admitting Lily existed would be a whole other topic.

Plus she had absolutely no idea what Andromache would do. The girl had had multiple boyfriends in the time Mor had known her, although they seemed to all be flings and Andromache had never dated them for more than a month, claiming they weren’t the right guy for her. Lately she hadn’t seen anyone in months, dismissing it as a dry spell.

The bell rang as Elain slipped into the shop, five minutes early. Mor put on a bright smile and greeted her new employee, trying to put Andromache to the back of her mind for now.

\---

When Elain had left the apartment this morning at 8:50, she hadn’t expected for a red-haired man to be standing outside the door, scrolling through a text message on his phone. He was only a few doors down from her apartment, and Elain started in surprise at the sight.

Man was not quite the word to use, Elain realized, when he looked up to see her standing at her door. He looked to be her age, if only a year or two older--a boy just growing into manhood.

“Hello,” the stranger said, tucking his phone into his back pocket and pushing off the wall. “I didn’t realize we had new neighbors in the apartment.”

“It’s only been a day.” Elain managed to say. He was undeniably handsome, glowing in ways Azriel had not. Elain berated herself for thinking this way about the two men she had met in just two days. _Not everyone has to be someone you want to fall in love with._ Elain reminded herself. _Keep it simple._

“Ah, well, welcome to the community,” the man flashed her a smile, “I’m Lucien Vanserra.”

“Elain Archeron.” She replied faintly.

A heartbeat of silence pulsed between them.

Lucien still had his eyes on her and Elain had to admit she felt a tug in her chest in response. He opened her mouth to say something, something that probably would have made Elain want to stand there forever. But she had promised her new boss that she would get to the shop at nine, and Elain didn’t want to be late.

“I have to go,” she blurted out, “I have to be somewhere by nine.”

Lucien checked his watch: 8:53 am. He seemed disappointed by the passage of time and relented, leaning back against the wall, though his russet eyes never left hers. “That’s a shame,” he comments, “I would have loved to talk and get to know you.”

She bobbed her head in agreement, her stomach fluttering at the thought. “Me too.”

“Are you free tomorrow?” Lucien pressed, something lighting up in his eyes as he seemed to start to formulate plans. “Do you want to go for lunch or something? On me.”

That fast, Elain was already snared into the idea of going with this man. “I’d love to.” She decided to smile at him, and got a soft smile in return. Without further ado, Elain walked past him and kept going, spearing for the shop across the street even though her mind stayed here with Lucien.

Suddenly Elain wasn’t so sure what she would do if she saw Azriel that day.

\---

Cassian arrived at the hospital at the crack of dawn, before anyone would be expecting visitors. It was his day to walk Mor to her shop, but he had asked Rhys to step in for him, since he wanted to visit his mother.

It had been over a week since he had come to see her, and Cassian was worried she would be in worse condition. Cancer had slowly been taking her life and Cassian knew better than to think that the hospital would find a cure for her when they had been trying for a whole year.

Cassian also had absolutely no money to pay for the bills, something he owed to Rhys’s father and the enormous fortune he was leaving his son.

“Thought I’d find you in here,” a low voice sounded behind him.

Cassian didn’t turn but greeted his friend back. “Nice to see you too, Azriel.”

“You didn’t come to Rhys’s last night.”

“Didn’t want to.” Was Cassian’s clipped reply.

Azriel was quiet for a moment as he trailed Cassian. For the whole way there, Cassian fiddled with the hem of his worn down shirt, wondering why Azriel was really here. They came to a stop in front of Cassian’s mother’s door.

“You know Rhys’s father won’t be back until Friday,” Azriel started.

Cassian shot his friend a look. “I know.”

Again with the hesitation. This time Cassian was too impatient to enter the room to deal with Azriel’s silence. “Spit it out already.”

“It’s a bed, food, and clean clothes.” Azriel finally said, “I’m just as proud as you are--maybe prouder--but I know better than to turn down a chance for a roof over my head and an easy way to clean myself and my clothes. You and I have snuck in countless times to take quiet baths, trying not to get Rhys in trouble, and suddenly you’ve decided you don’t want it when we can have it without worrying about his father?”

Cassian’s lips tightened. “Rhys pays for my bills, Az. Why should I burden him more than I need to?”

Azriel opened his mouth to argue but Cassian barreled onwards. “You’re one to talk. You work yourself to death at that bakery of yours because whenever there’s an opening at the Hybern Hotel, your boss lets you have the room for the night. Except he takes it from your paycheck and keeps you in debt so you’ll never be free of him or that crappy bakery you work at. Rhys has offered to cover those debts as well but I don’t see you taking his offer.”

Azriel sighed. “He wants to know where you went. Rhys stayed up all night because he was worried.”

Cassian shook his head. “I was fine.”

“You look terrible.”

“I always look terrible.” Cassian placed a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll go tonight,” he muttered, “and every night until Friday just so he doesn’t have to worry. But that means you should let him cover some of your debts.”

“Mine isn’t tens of thousands of dollars.” Azriel pointed out. “And those empty hotel rooms are for you as much as they are for me.”

Cassian waved a hand at him. “Tell that to Rhys the next time he tries to pay for you as well.”

In truth, both of them tried to ward Rhys off doing everything for them because it really just kept their friend trapped in the hellhole his father had created. Cassian knew that Rhys only stayed at home because they all needed his money, and if he left, he would not have any claim on the fortune that would one day be his.

Cassian wished he didn’t have to ask this of his friend, but Az was right. Azriel could work at that bakery in every shift possible just to pay his debts off since the amount wasn’t in the thousands, but Cassian could work every job possible in the city and still not have enough money to pay for his mother’s hospital bills.

Not to mention, Rhys still needed his father’s money to attend college and get his degree in Design. Not for the first time in his life, Cassian wished everything wasn’t so dependent on money.

Not bothering with a goodbye to Azriel, Cassian pushed his way into the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

He stayed until visiting hours were over, only quietly slipping to the soup kitchen to ask for a small meal before going back to his mother’s room. She had awoken to talk to him and they talked until the sun set and his mother got exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep. Then when visiting hours were over, a nurse came in to excuse Cassian.

Without looking at the nurse, he murmured a goodbye to his mother, his throat tight and remembered that he had to get to Mor’s shop soon before she left by herself to walk home. He had promised Rhys he would do the afternoon shift since Rhys had a date with Feyre Archeron.

Speaking of the Archerons, Cassian passed by the nurse and almost walked right into her arm, which had extended to stop him. In her delicate hand was his spare t-shirt.

“Thank you for letting me borrow it yesterday.” Nesta’s voice came from his left. Cassian looked up into her blue-gray eyes, wondering if it was a coincidence that he had met Nesta Archeron yesterday, sister to a girl Rhys hadn’t really stopped talking about since he met her a year ago.

“No problem.” Cassian said as he accepted his shirt back. He didn’t really have a bag to put it in so he gripped it tightly in his fist.

“You weren’t volunteering today.” Nesta noted, keeping pace with him as they strolled down the hall.

 _Volunteering._ Cassian almost scoffed at the word. He wished he hadn’t let her believe that he was a social worker who helped out at the soup kitchen when he had free time, but he also knew he never could have choked out the truth. _Nice to meet you, I don’t actually volunteer here because I’m homeless and I need the free food myself._

Cassian wasn’t feel up to pitying himself today so he just shrugged and nodded to the now shut door behind them. “I was seeing to my mother. She has breast cancer and I don’t like to go long without visiting her.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Nesta commented, her back stiff. Cassian noticed she looked distinctively uncomfortable, though he didn’t want to ask why. It wasn’t as if he was going to make a habit out of seeing her, though Cassian did want to. She wasn’t the typical sort of woman Cassian would go after, with her rigid posture and her stoic features, but she intrigued him.

They had reached the end of the hallway and Cassian knew he couldn’t linger if he wanted to make it to Mor’s shop before she finished closing up. “I’ll see you around?” He asked, a bit too hopefully.

“I guess.” Was her reply, her blue-gray eyes fixed on him intently. “Will you be at the soup kitchen tomorrow?”

 _For food._ Cassian thought, but he just flashed her a smirk. “Just for you, darling.”

Nesta turned a bit pink but she didn’t say anything else as Cassian watched her for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the hospital. Food or not, Cassian had a feeling he would be spending a lot more time at the hospital than before.


	5. Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

It was another day of kneading his hands into the dough, of sweating from the stuffy heat of the oven, of smiling blandly at the customers to please his boss. Azriel had come straight here in the morning, since Rhys had promised to walk Mor to her shop this morning. He had been here since 6 in the morning, starting on the day’s batch of bread and pastries before any of his other coworkers had even showed up.

The hours dragged by and finally it was nearly time for Azriel’s lunch break. He was busy making a batch of sugar cookies when the bell above the door rang and he looked up to see a beautiful girl walk into the bakery.

Not just any girl, Azriel realized, but Elain Archeron--Mor’s new employee.

It was as if time stopped.

She looked around and began to stroll through the aisles of bread and Azriel stared after her, his hands paused over the dough, unable to pull his eyes away. She was wearing a plain white blouse with a floral skirt and her hair tumbled down her back in waves. She reached up absentmindedly to brush back one of her locks.

Someone coughed behind him and Azriel jerked to attention. “You going to keep working or should I just take your job?” Hybern growled as he walked by. “We have hundreds of more customers that will walk through that door today so hurry up with those cookies. I need you to start on a new batch of bread.”

Azriel didn’t deign to reply and started kneading the dough again, only sparing Elain a quick glance but she was already gone behind the aisles.

It would be five more minutes before Azriel saw her again as she emerged and entered the growing line to the cashier. Azriel was working behind one of the counters that displayed the cookies and she would pass in front of him before she made it to the cashier. But with the line the size that it was, Azriel would be done with the cookies long before she could make it to him and then he would have to go to the back in order to start the new batch of bread his boss wanted.

Without even hesitating, Azriel slowed down his work. He took a painstakingly long time rolling out each ball and placing it carefully on the tray, measuring each out perfectly. He chatted with customers, keeping the fake smile plastered on his face. Hybern couldn’t get mad at him if he was pleasing the customers and making them buy more cookies. It was a profit that would never be added to his paycheck.

“Azriel!” His boss barked from the back. “The bread!”

Still, Azriel didn’t respond. He smiled to the woman he had been talking to and continued with his cookies. He was nearly halfway through the dough and Elain had barely inched towards him. He wondered if she had seen him yet.

“Azriel--” Hybern crashed through the door from the back. “What the hell are you still doing with those cookies? The _bread_ , Trentino, or you’re fired.”

Azriel finished the cookies and was out in the back in a flash, even though he shot a pained glance at Elain. She hadn’t noticed him yet, though she had looked up briefly from the commotion. Azriel swore under his breath and began frantically mixing the bread ingredients together. His boss wasn’t serious about firing him, but he could take a huge chunk out of his paycheck and make him start at minimum wage again. Hybern loved finding ways to make Azriel say his employee forever.

“I knew your father,” Hybern would say, “he would be so proud that you’re working for me.”

 _Like hell he would be._ Azriel would think mutinously. His father hadn’t loved his son--especially not when he beat him senseless every day and then left him to die in the cold after his wife died from overworking to feed five children. Azriel, as the youngest, was the first to go.

Plus, rumors was he was just some bastard child anyway.

He mixed the ingredients rapidly and dumped it all in the mixer before pouring the water into the flour. He turned on the machine, praying the line moved as slowly as it did when he had been out in front as he let the machine go as fast as he dared. Then he was tugging out the bread and pumping his fists into the dough, kneading it over and over.

Azriel was breathless by the time he had finished the bread and left it in a container near the back window to rise. Then he was out the door and out to the front before he had even washed his hands. He tucked them into his apron to try to conceal the caked dough from his boss.

It seemed he had gotten there right in time. Elain was paying at the cashier and she looked up, catching his stare. Her mouth opened slightly in shock but Azriel was already moving, grabbing new stocks of bread from the back counter and walking through the customers to get to the appropriate places to start restocking the bread.

She found him moments later, though Azriel had intended to stop her before she exited the shop. “Hi.” She greeted him, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Hey.” Azriel said a little breathlessly. He turned and knew that he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Her brown eyes were beautifully lit from this angle--or from any angle for that matter--and Azriel felt as if he was drowning in them.

“I didn’t know you worked here.”

Azriel shrugged. “I never really told you anything about me.”

Elain bobbed her head. “Fair enough. So this is where you go when you’re not with Mor? I didn’t notice you at the shop this morning.”

“No,” Azriel agreed, “Rhys went to walk Mor.”

Awkward silence filled the air before Elain cleared her throat. “Oh, okay.”

Azriel bit his lip, glanced away, and then gestured to the bag she was holding. “Aren’t you supposed to be working at Mor’s right now? Or did she give you a lunch break?” Azriel didn’t really know what else to say, though he knew he wasn’t making a very good impression with her.

“Oh, Mor wanted me to buy some bread. It’s for all of us--me, Mor, and Amren. Then she said you guys--uh, Rhys, Cassian, and you--could take the extras home.” Elain shifted on her feet, looking shy.

 _Home._ Azriel’s gut clenched at that word. “Tell her Cassian will come by tonight and he’ll pick it up.” Though it really didn’t matter who went because they were all going to Rhys’s house tonight. At least it made Cassian show up, whereas last night Azriel didn’t know where the guy had gone to sleep.

“Do you love to bake?” Elain asked suddenly. She was staring at his hands, which were still dusted with flour.

Azriel fought the urge to hide his hands, not because of the flour, but because of the burn scars underneath. Proof of his father’s insanity and cruelty. “Yes,” he admitted, “I love baking though I--” He broke off. It wasn’t smart to talk about the bakery when his boss or his coworkers could be listening in on them at any given moment.

Speaking of the bakery, he had to get back to work before Hybern punished him for slacking on his shift. “I love baking too.” Elain admitted.

Pleasure filled Azriel’s stomach even though he had done nothing for it. “One day,” Elain continued confidently, “I want to open my own bakery. She glanced at him, “you could always be my employee, if you wanted.”

 _If only I could pay off my debts and Hybern would let me._ Azriel thought bitterly. “I would love that.” He said instead, because he didn’t want to burn down her hopes. Plus, he wanted to make her smile again, instead of frown.

“TRENTINO!” Hybern shouted from the back.

“That is my cue to leave.” Azriel muttered, though he didn’t want to.

“Bye.” Elain murmured back as he backed away. Azriel nearly crashed into a shelf because he wasn’t looking and he gave Elain a sheepish wave before running to the back to see what his boss wanted.

\---

Mor closed the shop early to get to Andromache’s place. She knew she should have texted Rhys about it so that he could go find Cassian and send him here but Mor was itching to see her best friend and her daughter. She didn’t want to wait another hour to let him walk her to Andromache’s house. It had been a full year and Mor knew she could walk the streets by herself. If anything, she could ask Rhys to drive her home later if he wasn’t busy with Feyre.

“Bye, Elain!” Mor called out to her employee as she locked the door and waved to the woman walking back to her apartment. She was grateful she had hired Elain and was relieved that the woman hadn’t been too frightened upon meeting Amren, who had the tendency to scare everyone.

“Isn’t one of the boys supposed to walk you home?” Amren inquired from behind her.

Mor glanced behind her at the tiny woman. “Yes, but I decided to close the shop early.”

Amren gave her a critical look. “Are you walking home alone?”

“I’m going to Andromache’s house which is only ten minutes away.” Mor gritted her teeth. “It’s been a year; I think I can take care of myself.”

“This isn’t just about your ability to watch out for yourself,” Amren reminded her, “but whether or not others want to take advantage of you. The boys are just trying to protect you and rightly so.”

“I love Lily,” Mor said tightly, “I wouldn’t wish for anything else.”

Amren hummed as if she didn’t believe her, but she strutted away without another word, leaving Mor standing there in the dim light of her storefront. She cursed lightly under her breath for her stubbornness as familiar fear overtook her from just being here on the streets alone.

 _No one is going to hurt you._ Mor told herself. _He went to prison for assault and rape. And he knows you have friends who will gladly beat him up if he ever touches you again. He knows that if he gets arrested for it again it may be the end of him instead._ But nothing she said to herself made her feel better.

She could feel hot tears on her face. She told herself it was only a ten minute walk. She could make it there.

Mor didn’t even make it a step before she called Rhys.

He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” She fought to breathe as she heard his voice raise in a higher pitch. “Mor? Where are you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are; I’ll come get you right now.” His voice was urgent and panicked, which did little to settle Mor’s stomach.

“I’m at my shop,” she whispered.

“I’m coming.” Rhys promised. “Stay put and I’ll be there in five.”

“Can you stay on the phone?” Mor asked quietly as she unlocked her store and walked back inside. It was nearly 6 pm and Mor knew that Rhys had been planning on taking Feyre to dinner. She felt bad, especially since her shop was so close to Feyre’s apartment--only a block away. But Mor’s house was several blocks down and would take around ten minutes of driving to get there without traffic.

“Of course, Mor.” Rhys’s voice sounded firm now that he was assured she was okay. “Why isn’t Cassian with you?”

What he wasn’t asking was why she was getting ready to leave the shop so early when it was routine for one of the three boys to come wait for her to finish closing up so that they could walk the thirty minutes to Mor’s house.

“He didn’t plan on coming until later,” Mor mumbled, “I closed the shop early.”

Rhys’s voice was soft and kind. “Well that doesn’t matter now. I’ll have to find some way to tell him that he doesn’t have to come anymore since I got you. Do you have somewhere you want to go?”

Mor knew she had promised Andromache that she would go to her house but now Mor wasn’t sure she’d be able to see her best friend without breaking down. “I just want to go home.” She told her cousin. She would text Andromache later and say something came up with her parents so she couldn’t go. Though her parents were rarely at home now.

“Five minutes away now.” Rhys promised her.

“Will Feyre be mad at you?” Mor couldn’t help but ask him.

“She’ll understand.”

Mor had only met Feyre once, a year ago when the girl had come to Velaris to submit her art portfolio to some of the studios around here. Rhys had bumped into her at the airport and showed her around town and he had brought her to Mor’s grand opening.

Then Rhys’s car pulled up and Mor rushed out the door, locking it quickly before slipping into the passenger seat of his car. The leather was comfortable and Mor instantly relaxed, her fingers moving to secure her seatbelt and then ending the call with Rhys so she could text Andromache about the change of plans.

“Do you want to wait for Cassian?” Rhys asked hesitantly. His eyes darted towards Feyre’s apartment, giving himself away.

Mor instantly felt guilty for making her cousin do this. “He won’t come for another hour at the most.” She said, itching a little, “I…”

“We’ll go then.” Rhys didn’t even give her another choice as he signaled and began driving again.

Mor was eternally grateful that her cousin understood how much this meant to her.

\---

Rhys was late.

Ten minutes ago there had been a hastily typed text that said he was helping his cousin with something and would be at her door as soon as he could. Feyre felt ridiculous waiting in the apartment lobby by herself, dressed in a light blue blouse and black leggings. She fidgeted with her phone and read Rhys’s text for the seventh time, wishing he was already here.

Finally, she saw his mop of dark hair as he burst into the apartment lobby, his violet eyes searching for her. He was so tense Feyre thought he would just snap. When he spotted her, Rhys immediately let out a breath that made his whole body sag in what looked to be relief. For a brief moment, Feyre wondered why he had looked as if he had lost her forever.

“Hi,” she said as she walked to him, clutching her purse in one hand and her phone in the other, “are you all right?”

“I should be asking you that.” Rhys raked a hand through his hair, his eyes smudged and there were dark circles around his eyes. Feyre fought the urge to touch the spot under his eye, to kiss him. _Stop it,_ she scolded herself. Just because they had shared one kiss last year didn’t mean Rhys would want to do it again. “I’m so sorry for making you wait that long. Mor needed a ride home and I couldn’t say no.”

Feyre had been meaning to drop by her store and say hi to Rhys’s cousin, whom Feyre had met only briefly. But she had been caught up with a recent painting idea she had and she didn’t want to stop.

“That’s fine,” Feyre lied, even though she was a bit tired from waiting for Rhys for twenty minutes, “you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Rhys gave her a tired smile of his own and reached for her hand, only to awkwardly hit her phone. Feyre, a bit mortified at her own ignorance, quickly stuffed her phone away and took his hand. Rhys was still very tense and Feyre drew closer to him, hoping to make him relax a bit more.

“If you don’t mind,” Rhys said as they walked towards his car, “I need to drop by Hybern’s bakery to tell my friend something. Then I’ll take you to dinner. Do you have any places you want to go?”

“It’s only been two days since I’ve been here,” Feyre reminded him. “The last time we ate dinner at your house with all your friends.” She only barely remembered his friends: Cassian, the funny one; Azriel, the quiet one; Amren, the very tiny (not that Feyre would tell her that) one; and Mor, the outgoing one.

“We can go back to the Sidra,” Rhys suggested, “the view is just as spectacular in the night as it is in the day. And then after we can take a walk along the riverside if it’s all right with you.”

“That sounds perfect.” Feyre smiled at the boy next to her, feeling butterflies in her stomach. 

They chatted about simple things about themselves to further get to know each other. Feyre found that he was 19, one year older than her, and was enrolled in Velaris University, just like she was. Classes would be starting within a month, and Feyre wasn’t quite ready to go back to school. She wondered if her sisters would even manage to make enough money to pay for her college tuition by that time.

When Rhys pulled over in the parking lot, Feyre was greeted with the sparkling sight of the River Sidra as it flowed past the restaurant and deeper into the city. “One day,” Rhys took her hand again as they headed inside, “I’m going to take you on a boat ride. It goes all the way through the city and is the best tour you’d get of downtown.”

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile. “I’d love that.”

“I should have done it last year,” Rhys laughed a little breathlessly. He looked comfortable now that they were at the restaurant, as if all his worry and tension had disappeared in his good mood, “would have been a perfect way to show off the city.”

Feyre was curious. Rhys looked happy whenever he talked about going around the city with her, but he had told her yesterday that Velaris didn’t exactly bring happy memories for him. But she didn’t think the first (second?) date was the time to start prying on his personal issues.

She ordered the spaghetti this time and as they waited for their food to come, Rhys reached across the table for her hand. It was as if he was seeking comfort, for there was still some unspoken worry in his eyes. “Is there something bothering you?” Feyre squeezed his hand in comfort. “You can tell me anything, you know?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Rhys dismissed immediately, though his eyes were distant, “I was just thinking about--”

“Rhys!” A cheery, fake voice rang from the entrance of the restaurant. Feyre turned her head to stare at a beautiful, red-haired girl strolling towards them. “I didn’t know I’d find you here.” Her eyes raked over Feyre, which made the artist shrink back a bit.

Rhys immediately yanked his hand out of Feyre’s and stood. His eyes were wide and alarmed. “Amarantha,” he said, his teeth gritted, “what are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come back until next week.”

“Oh, I just flew back early, that’s all!” Amarantha smiled and blinked at Rhys, showing off her long lashes. It was almost as if Feyre no longer existed. “Aren’t you at least happy to see me, sweetheart?” She leaned in and pecked Rhys on the cheek.

Feyre felt as if she had made a grave mistake in coming out with Rhys tonight. But the boy quickly glanced at Feyre. “I’m with her,” he said quietly.

“Silly you,” Amarantha looped her arm around his, “you’re _mine_.”

Rhys looked as if he wanted to argue but Feyre couldn’t do it anymore. She didn’t even want to wait for the food. “I’m going to go home,” she told him, “enjoy your dinner with…”

“I’m his girlfriend,” Amarantha explained, “and thanks! We’ll have a wonderful time.”

“Wait!” Rhys called after her, his footsteps pounding from behind. “Feyre, wait.” He caught her outside of the restaurant. “I swear this isn’t how it looks. She’s not my girlfriend; she’s just one of my father’s workers and she thinks she has a claim on me.”

Feyre searched his gaze and knew that he was telling her the truth. But...she didn’t think she could make it through the dinner with Amarantha there. “I believe you,” she sighed, “but,” she gestured inside the restaurant, “I can’t stay with her here.”

“Let me take you home.” Rhys said, repeating the words he had uttered to her the last time they had been here.

Feyre shook her head. “You have a girl to take care of inside. I’ll call a cab or walk home. It’s not too far from my apartment.”

Rhys looked torn. For a moment it looked as if he wanted to kiss her and Feyre didn’t know if she would have let him after what had just happened. “I’m sorry,” he told her, “I didn’t want this night to end this way.”

She looked away. “It’s okay,” she muttered, “I’ll see you another day?”

“Yeah.” Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll see you I guess.”

Even though Feyre had wanted to spend the night with a boy she knew she had fallen for a year ago, she still made herself walk away, only glancing back once to see him standing there in front of the restaurant, his gaze sad and forlorn, his figure hunched and alone.


	6. Broken Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I suck at making titles? Sorry for all the angst in these past few chapters! The fluff will come I promise :)

Mor decided to stop by Andromache’s the next day and called Elain to tell her to not show up at the shop. She lied and said she wasn’t feeling well so she was taking a day off and there was no need for either Elain or Amren to come. Then she called Rhys to take her to Andromache’s house.

“Why aren’t you going to work?” Rhys asked her as he backed out of her driveway and punched in Andromache’s address into the GPS. “Are you ill?”

“If I was ill, I’d be staying home and not risk passing on the flu to my daughter.” Mor reminded Rhys.

“Okay,” Rhys nodded, “so why aren’t you going to work?”

“I need to see my daughter.”

Rhys kept nodding, though he kept his eyes on the road. “You can always do that after work like you planned to yesterday.” Mor didn’t even know how Rhys knew she had planned to go to Andromache’s. She hadn’t told Cassian, who had promised to come walk her home. “Are you sure you don’t want to open the shop today? I can cover for Elain and Amren if you need employees; I don’t have work today.”

“Yes you do,” Mor said sharply. “You have work every day.”

“So do you.”

Mor sighed sharply out her nose. “I don’t see why it’s any of your business why I’m not going to work today. It’s good to let Elain and Amren rest a day and I’ll still pay them the money they would have gotten for working today. I’m not an idiot; I know they need the money.”

“What about you?”

“What?” Mor blinked at her cousin.

“I work every day because I need the money for college. Because I hate my father and I don’t want to be his puppet anymore. Because my father is paying for all my bills and all of Cassian’s bills and I don’t want to be his son anymore. But you work for all the same reasons, don’t you? Because you won’t want to live with your parents anymore and you want to be able to go wherever you want, be whoever you want.”

It hits too close to home. Mor wondered, not for the first time, if Rhys had guessed about Mor’s sexuality and how she had definitely fallen in love with her best friend. But her cousin just shook his head as he pulled up in front of Andromache’s house. “Whatever, I won’t change your mind now. But don’t tell me you work because you just want to own a fashion shop. We all know there’s so much more than that.” His eyes are heavy when he leaves.

His words had reminded Mor too much about how life is like for Rhys. She closed her eyes briefly, turning her face to the sun before the door bangs open. “Mor!” Andromache grins, “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

She pushes the thoughts about her cousin and about her work out of her mind and smile at Andromache. “Sorry I couldn’t drop by yesterday. My parents came home and wanted to have dinner with me so I decided I would entertain them for one night.”

“Did you cancel work?”

“Yeah,” Mor nodded, even though she felt a bite of guilt in her stomach now, “Do you have anything today?”

“Nothing.” Andromache grins, her dimples showing. Mor felt her heart clench and she fought the urge to look away. “Come on! Lily’s been sleeping all morning but she woke up ten minutes ago.”

She still couldn’t fathom how kind her best friend was. She didn’t know anyone who would willingly raise a child in her home because someone else couldn’t. Mor hadn’t wanted to dump Lily on Andromache, but seeing as Rhys’s parents would rat her out to her parents and Cassian and Azriel didn’t exactly have a place to stay, Mor had no choice but to choose Andromache.

Well...there was Amren, but Mor didn’t think she could handle a baby.

Lily was playing in Andromache’s living room when Mor walked in. She grinned at her daughter, who giggled back at her. Mor immediately scooped her up and bounced her up and down. “How’s my little girl?” She cooed, “Have you been behaving with Andromache? You’re a good little girl, aren’t you?” She kissed her daughter’s forehead gently.

She set her daughter back down and let her crawl around and play with the blocks Andromache had laid out. “You know,” Andromache said as she stood next to Mor, gazing at Lily fondly, “I’m really glad you’re letting me take care of her. She’s a sweet child and she’s almost like a daughter to me.”

Mor felt her heart swell. “Thank you for being willing to take care of her.” Mor shook her head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Andromache grinned. “What are best friends for?”

Her smile was so bright that Mor felt her cheeks flush a little. “You’re brilliant, did you know that?” Andromache now said, a little more seriously, “You work long hours just to build a support base for you and Lily when you graduate from Velaris University and I know you’ll be an amazing mother. And--” She hesitated, looking a bit nervous and she looked down at the floor before Mor could catch her gaze.

“And?” She prompted.

Andromache cleared her throat. “And if you want someone to help you raise her even after you move out of your parents’ house, I’d be glad to help you.”

“Really?” Mor couldn’t help her surprise. She always thought once she took Lily out of Andromache’s hands, her best friend would move on. Maybe find a boyfriend and marry him.

“Yeah.” Andromache’s cheeks turned red. “I’d do anything for you and Lily.”

It took all of her effort not to reach out and take Andromache’s hand. Mor wanted nothing more than to touch her, to feel the contact, the intimacy that she longed. She wanted to say something, anything, but at that moment, her phone buzzed with a text message.

 **RHYS:** Don’t freak out.

Mor was instantly panicked and confused. She stared at her phone for a few seconds before typing out a quick message back to her cousin.

 **MOR:** Why would I freak out?

He replied in seconds. It only took five words to make Mor’s blood freeze.

 **RHYS:** Eris is in town again.

The world stopped.

“Mor?” Andromache was glancing at her, somehow on the floor with Lily, looking very concerned. “Are you all right? What happened?” She was clambering up in an instant, her hand reaching for Mor’s.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Mor squeezed her hand and pulled her close, needing her warmth, her touch. “Eris is in town.” She whispered. “He wasn’t supposed to be back. He went to prison just a year ago. How is he back already? I-I can’t--”

“It’s going to be fine.” Andromache’s voice grounded her. “Mor, look at me.” She stared into the depths of her amber eyes. “We’ll protect you. He won’t ever be allowed to come see Lily and you know Rhys and the others will protect you every day. You have nothing to worry about, okay? He isn’t even allowed to step inside your shop because of court sentencing. He can’t touch you, Mor.”

“I know,” she murmured, “I know.”

But it didn’t feel like it was going to be all right.

\---

Lunch with Lucien was easy yet difficult at the same time. Elain had let him pick her up at her apartment and take her to a sandwich shop close by because he had work later in the afternoon and could not stay long. 

They ordered a quick meal and settled down at one of the tables.

“How do you like the city so far?” Lucien inquired.

“It certainly lives up to its name as either the Rainbow City or the City of Starlight.” Elain admitted, “It is a beautiful place and I think I’m going to enjoy staying here a great deal.”

Lucien had a soft smile on his face. “It has a gorgeous night, but a sinister day.”

Elain looked at him, a little startled by his ominous words. “What do you mean?” She asked after him, uncomfortably aware that she only met this man and he was perhaps sprouting warnings about his own city.

“Apologies,” Lucien glanced away, embarrassed now, “I don’t mean to scare you. It was just a personal thought, nothing more.”

Elain studied his features. He was lean and hard-faced, but not an eyesore. It was as if he spent all of his life working and laboring, with nothing more in mind. His eyes constantly searched their surroundings, as if watching out for something--or someone.

She wondered if perhaps Lucien was afraid of something.

“What do you do for work?” She decided to ask him, steering the topic away from the city in general. She was curious to know who he was and get to know him better. They were neighbors, after all.

“Nothing much,” Lucien sighed, “I’m an advertising agent for a nearby art studio. I’m supposed to send out flyers and keep in touch with promising artists who might want to submit their portfolios to the studio. It’s not much but it’s certainly better than nothing. I’m in debt to a friend for letting me have this job and for keeping me on it.”

“Oh!” Elain felt a flurry of excitement. “Then I should introduce you to my sister, Feyre. She’s an artist and she’s been looking to get her artwork to be displayed at an art museum or studio.”

“Feyre? Feyre Archeron?” Lucien looked amazed. “I should have recognized your last name. Your sister already has an interview set up with the art studio.”

Now it was Elain’s turn to be surprised. She remembered that Feyre had come home last year with a business card of a very famous art studio that was her friend’s father’s. That was the only one Feyre had contacted since moving to Velaris. “You work for Rhys’s father?”

Lucien raised an eyebrow and bobbed his head. “Yeah. I didn’t know you knew him.”

“I don’t,” Elain explained, “but I know his cousin and some of his friends. It was Feyre who first knew him.”

“He’s a good person.” Lucien smiled a little. “I don’t know him too well, but he helped me secure this job and it’s because of him that I got to even keep it. I’m very lucky to have met him.”

Elain opened her mouth to say more--to ask him about his job, when Lucien’s head snapped up and deep, intense hatred filled his eyes. She was taken aback by his expression and then she heard a low laugh. “Little Lucien,” a chuckle sounded behind her, “didn’t know you’d be here.”

“How the hell did you get out of jail?” Lucien demanded, half-rising out of his seat. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“Money is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?” The man came into view. He had Lucien’s features, Elain realized with a start, except his red hair was cropped short. There was something fierce about his eyes, and there was a hard glint in them that made Elain want to shy away.

The man spared Elain only a cursory glance. “What is this? Your new girl? Didn’t know you had the stomach after your first love.”

Lucien bristled, but this time he kept his mouth shut. Elain’s heart beat faster as she looked between the two men. _Brothers._ She thought. There was no other explanation for the similarities in their features.

The man gave Lucien a hard shove that had him sprawling back onto the seat. “See you around, little brother.”

Lucien muttered something obscene under his breath that made Elain turn a little scarlet. The man was already gone by the time Lucien straightened his jacket and readjusted himself. “Sorry,” he let out a long breath when he saw Elain’s stricken face. “That’s my brother, Eris.” He looked grim. “I need to tell Rhys that he’s here.”

Elain felt her stomach drop. “Why was he in jail?”

Lucien rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “He was charged with assault and rape.” He admitted. “He wasn’t supposed to be out yet but I’m guessing my father let him out.” There was pure disgust in his voice.

He put his head in his hands and Elain didn’t know what else to do but give him space and silence.

Their sandwiches came at that moment but neither of them were hungry anymore.

\---

With visiting hours over, Nesta signed herself out and found herself looking down the hall, almost expecting Cassian to emerge from his mother’s room, just like he had yesterday. But the hall remained empty and Nesta had already been staring for ten minutes.

She let out a harsh sigh, trying to force herself to forget about the man. He was becoming a distraction, and Nesta was sure she didn’t even like him. There was a buzz of energy about him that made Nesta feel excited and exhausted at the same time. She had never met someone like him.

Waving goodbye to the lady at the receptions desk, Nesta made her way out into the cool air. It was only around 6 pm, and Nesta took her time strolling through the streets of Velaris, glancing into shops, only mildly interested in what they were selling.

She almost walked past him but only noticed him when she turned away from a bakery’s window and promptly tripped over his leg.

“What--” Nesta stumbled forward before catching herself. She straightened and glared at the man slumped on the ground. “Watch where you put your legs!” She demanded, “People need to walk on this sidewalk.”

He looked up with startling hazel eyes. Nesta’s fury turned into bewilderment. “Cassian? What are you doing here?”

“Sitting here.” His reply was clipped, unlike his usual laidback nature.

Nesta felt herself stiffen at his tone. “I can see that.” She fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Why are you sitting here?”

Cassian peered at her. “Why do you care?”

 _Why do I care?_ It was a question Nesta asked herself every day upon meeting him. “Are you...waiting for someone?” Nesta tried to push for more information. She didn’t understand why he was camping out in the middle of the sidewalk. Surely he had somewhere to go.

The question must have shown in her eyes. “I’m more comfortable here than anywhere else.” He muttered. “And no, I’m not waiting for anyone.”

“This isn’t like you.” Nesta frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t know me.”

Nesta’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You’re right.” She did roll her eyes this time. “I’ve known you for three days. It’s obvious that you’re not in the mood to talk so I guess I’ll leave you here to sulk alone.”

Cassian’s eyes flashed, suddenly alert. “Are you walking home alone?”

“Yes.” Nesta nearly snapped the word at him. Suddenly, he was interested in her again, as if the conversation became important once more. “Why do you care?” She threw the words back at him.

“Let me walk with you.” Cassian started to get to his feet.

“No thank you,” Nesta backed away, “I can walk myself home.”

“It’s dangerous,” Cassian insisted. “Let me. I’m not doing anything anyway.”

“ _No_ ,” Nesta said, a bit more forcefully than she had intended. “I don’t want you to walk me home.” The words came out harsher than she expected, and she didn’t miss the flash of hurt that appeared in his eyes. It was gone before Nesta could make more sense out of it. “I didn’t mean it like that--” she protested, unsure why she felt the need to protect herself.

“I get it,” Cassian turned away, his shoulders hunched and his back tense. “I’m a bastard born nobody and you’re a high-class girl. Go on then, walk alone. Just don’t wander into the back alleys of Velaris.”

“It isn’t like that!” Nesta felt stung. “I’m not trying to pull rank and pretend I’m better than you. You just seem like you need space and I don’t see how I need your protection at all. I’ll be perfectly fine walking home. It’s only a few blocks.”

“That’s what Mor said,” Cassian murmured, his eyes clouded with unspoken memories, “that’s what Mor said.” He repeated.

Nesta was confused and tired of this conversation. “Goodbye, Cassian.” She said, forcing herself to sound polite.

He just muttered something else under his breath that she didn’t catch but Nesta was already walking away, wishing she hadn’t stopped to talk to him. Wishing her heart wasn’t beating wildly and wishing that her mind wouldn’t keep straying back to him.

\---

A loud knock on the door snapped Feyre out of her painting. She was trying to paint a rose, but she couldn’t get the angle of the sunlight correct. It was a lot harder for her to concentrate than she thought, after yesterday’s disaster of a date.

Speaking of dates, Feyre yanked open the door to find Rhys standing outside.

She almost shut the door in his face.

“Feyre,” Rhys said immediately, almost desperately, “I need to talk to you.”

She bit her lip, not quite opening the door and not quite shutting it. She debated the pros and cons of each, wondering why she had ever let herself get tangled into a mess she obviously wasn’t ready for. “Okay.” She said finally. “Talk.”

“Can I come inside?” Rhys glanced around. “I feel weird just standing here.”

Feyre stifled her sigh and shuffled back. She shut the door after him and leaned against it. Rhys stood out in the small living room, a dark shadow amongst the colors of her paintings and clothes. “Talk.” She repeated.

“What happened yesterday was not supposed to happen.” Rhys said in a rush. “I didn’t even know Amarantha would be back. She was on a trip with my father and was supposed to return when he did--on Thursday.”

“So what?” Feyre shook her head. “You were going to let me believe that you were taking me out like a boyfriend would do and then when Amarantha returned, you’d break it all off because you already have a girlfriend? Unless you guys aren’t dating exclusively, which obviously you _are_ , because she was so possessive of you and--” She was rambling, she knew, but Feyre couldn’t help it.

“No!” Rhys ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. Feyre wished he didn’t look so adorable like that. She wanted to kiss him. “She’s not my girlfriend, Feyre. I told you that last night and you believed me, didn’t you?”

Feyre wished she had chosen the couch so she could sit down. “I think I believe you,” she admitted, “but it’s just so hard, Rhys. Even if I do think that you’re telling the truth, how do I deal with this? I can’t go out with you all the time when one of your father’s employees is constantly claiming you as hers. Plus, I’m supposed to be trying to get an interview with your father so I can get my portfolio approved.”

Rhys sighed. “I know, I know. I wish I could do something about it, but I don’t know what to do. I’d move away or just go to the university just to be alone with you but I can’t.”

Feyre peered at him. “It’s summer, Rhys. We don’t have school just yet.”

The boy rubbed his jaw with his hand. “I wish we did. It’d give me more reason to be away from home.”

“Why can’t you leave?” Feyre was genuinely curious now. “What’s stopping you from disappearing? Aren’t you old enough to move out and live on your own? With your wealth, you could go anywhere.”

“I don’t have any money unless my father lets me.” Rhys shook his head. “I won’t get a penny of it until my father dies. Well, actually, I _do_ have money of my own from my work, but a lot of that goes to Cassian and Azriel so I haven’t saved much.”

“You always mention them.” Feyre blinked. She remembered the two of Rhys’s friends. Cassian was a year older and was now twenty--a man. Azriel was the same age of Rhys, not quite a grown man but not quite a boy. The two had been polite and a pleasure to talk with. Feyre couldn’t remember anything else about them.

“They’re my best friends.” Rhys said, some light returning to his eyes. “In fact…”

He hesitated. Feyre gripped the doorknob with his hand. “Yes?”

“If you want,” Rhys looked nervous, “I can show you why I need to stay home all the time. Why I stay with my father when I hate him beyond words.”

She wanted to ask him why he hated his father. Why Rhys always talked about him with disgust in his voice. He was rich yet he resented every part of his life. Feyre wanted to know why, but now was not the time to ask him.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Where are we going?”

“My house.” Rhys met her eyes. “Everything starts from there. It’s a bit more complicated than I can explain unless you actually see it.”

 _His house?_ The last time she had been there, Cassian and Azriel had been sleeping over because Rhys’s father didn’t come home. They had a party and had fun, laughing and talking until they got too tired and fell asleep.

He took her hand. “Please, I want you to understand. It explains Amarantha as well and why I wish I could make this easier for you.”

He looked so vulnerable, so hesitant that Feyre opened the door without even thinking about it. “I’m ready,” she told him, “I want to understand.”

 _I want you._ She wanted to hold his hand forever, to feel this closeness. She didn’t want to let another woman step in the way of her relationship with a beautiful boy with a kind heart.

She suspected she was about to discover more about his heart tonight.


	7. Shattered Histories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter goes into their backstories and it may contain things that might be triggers for some people so please read at your own risk!!
> 
> and i'm still bad with titles so bear with me LOL

After the disastrous lunch with Lucien, Elain was walking along the Sidra, mulling over that evening. With the day off from work, Elain wasn’t sure what else she _could_ do, as she didn’t want to stay home at the stuffy apartment.

She passed by Hybern’s Bakery and paused, her heart quickening. She wondered if Azriel was working a shift and decided she would stop inside and buy her sisters some bread and maybe some cookies as well.

Pushing open the door, Elain stepped into the bakery and felt the blast of cool air that was a relief from the sweltering heat outside. She couldn’t see him at the counter and felt a stab of disappointment in her chest. Elain walked around in the aisles, her eyes skimming over the different types of bread, wondering how there could be so many different types.

“Elain.” A startled voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

She spun around. “Azriel!”

He was in a Hybern apron, just like he had been last time. “What are you doing here?” He stared at her in surprise. “Mor didn’t go to work today. And it’s late.”

“I know.” Elain bobbed her head along with the words. “But I wanted to get some bread for myself and my sisters.” She hesitated before saying her next words. “I wasn’t sure if you would be working today but I wanted to see you.”

“I work every day.” Azriel commented.

Elain wasn’t too surprised. There was little money to go around for many, and it wasn’t a shock that Azriel was one of the working class men who needed a solid job to make a living. A bakery perhaps wasn’t the best option, but it was better than nothing.

“Try the raisin bread.” Azriel reached behind her and grabbed a loaf. “Everything is handmade and the raisins are grown on a very popular farm nearby.”

“Do you make all of these?” Elain gestured around the store as she accepted the loaf from Azriel, her hands brushing against his. She blushed, though she didn’t fail to notice the way Azriel snatched his hands back. There were scars on his hands, she realized, but she didn’t dare ask about them now.

“Most.” Azriel shrugged. “The other coworkers don’t do a good job so I mostly work on matching new batches. It makes my salary higher, so I can’t complain.”

“The bread I bought last time were delicious.” Elain gave him a bright smile. “I think you do a wonderful job. If I hadn’t found Mor’s shop I would have surely applied here instead.” She had told him last time that she loved baking and hadn’t forgotten that Azriel enjoyed it as well.

“Oh no,” Azriel looked bitterly amused, “you should be glad Mor’s your boss, not--” He looked around abruptly and didn’t finish his sentence. But Elain knew he had meant to say Hybern.

She wondered what was so wrong with this job. Azriel had always seemed like he was avoiding someone or something in the bakery and Elain wondered if she should even be talking to him here. She feared she was stopping him from doing his job and his boss would punish him.

She moved to get in line but Azriel stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to discourage you against baking or anything.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Elain realized she must have looked mortified at his statement. “I guess I’m just concerned about why you think this is such a…” _Bad place to work._ Elain didn’t want to say it, in case someone was in fact listening.

Azriel only smiled slightly. “It’s all right,” he murmured, “but a bakery run by you would be better.”

She blushed again. “I should really let you get back to work.”

He captured her hand in his, stopping her from leaving. “I’m sure my boss won’t mind.” His eyes captured hers for a second before he looked away and dropped her hand. “But you’re right, you probably have someone to go anyway.”

She really didn’t, but Elain didn’t want him to get in trouble. “Will I see you around?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Azriel nodded, “of course.”

He didn’t elaborate on that as he walked away and Elain touched a hand to her cheek, sure her face was still red. Seeing Azriel was nothing like seeing Lucien. Today had been a disaster and Elain had told Lucien quietly that although she loved meeting him and getting lunch with him, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to do it again. They would be friends, Elain decided, and neighbors, but she wasn’t sure what else she wanted from him.

Azriel on the other hand, always made her feel on fire. She always wanted more from him, even when they were doing nothing but talking. Elain couldn’t place the emotion, but she was certain she wanted to see him again.

Perhaps, she thought with a small smile, she would make a habit of dropping by the bakery.

\---

Cassian knew he was moping, but he honestly wished he hadn’t been in such a bad mood. He had been sitting in front of the bakery intending to wait for Azriel, brooding because Rhys had stopped by earlier and told him and Azriel that Eris was in town.

All he had wanted to do was find that no good son of a bastard and beat him to a pulp. He still kind of wanted to do that.

Then Nesta had come by and Cassian had been a jerk to her. She had only been concerned for why he was sitting outside and all Cassian could do was shut her out and push her away. He hoped she had gotten home safely.

“Really, Cassian? Rhys is panicking back at his house and all you can do is sit here on this bench and sulk? You really need to be a bit more considerate.”

“Go away, Azriel.”

“Only if you come home.”

“I don’t have a home.”

“Don’t say that,” Azriel scolded, “Rhys is family.” That was mostly true, although it didn’t mean that his house was also Cassian’s house. In fact, Cassian wished Rhys could get out of that hellhole.

“All right,” Cassian shoved himself off the bench. “I’m coming. Tell him he needs to stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself and he honestly should focus on his own problems.”

“It’s not just you, idiot, Amarantha is back.”

This day couldn’t be worse, Cassian decided. “Thought she was on a business trip with Rhys’s father.” That girl had given all of them a bit of trouble when she tried to wrestle Rhys away from them. Rhys had only let her cling to him because he thought it would win him favors with his father.

Cassian was very glad Feyre Archeron had moved to Velaris, if only so she could keep Rhys safe from every poison that was his father’s doing.

“Plus,” Azriel went on, “you know that Rhys will never focus on his own problems until ours are settled.”

Cassian really didn’t want to keep having this conversation. He also really wanted to break something and right now, a stick wasn’t satisfying enough for him to snap. “I get it, okay?” He picked up a stick and flung it, hoping to take some of the edge off his anger. “It’s just--it’s harder for me to do anything but be mad because not all of us are lucky enough to land a job.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened. “Sometimes I’d rather have no job than have mine.”

Cassian sighed deeply. He knew better than to try to tell Azriel that he had money for himself and although he was deeply in debt to his boss, at least he didn’t have to grovel and ask for his friends for everything.

“Seriously,” they turned up the walkway to get to Rhys’s front door, “pull it together, Cassian. Rhys already has ten thousand things on his mind and he’s been looking pretty sick lately. Cut him some slack, okay? Give him something one less to worry about.”

“Says you.” Cassian muttered, but he didn’t bother bringing up the fact that Azriel never let Rhys pay off his bills.

“Nesta walked by earlier. I saw her through the window.” Azriel shot a swift glance at Cassian as they both entered the house. He hadn’t seen Rhys’s car in the driveway; he must have gone out somewhere.

“Yes, and?” Cassian wasn’t sure why he had even brought up Nesta the first day he had met her. It was purely by accident, since Mor had talked to them about Elain Archeron, her new employee and Cassian had immediately blurted out that he had met her elder sister, Nesta.

“Did you see her?”

Cassian scowled. “Why does it matter?”

“So you did.” Azriel deduced.

Cassian groaned. “Okay, okay, I did see her. I talked to her. Why does it matter?” He repeated, a bit irritated now.

“Nothing,” Azriel was smirking, “You two just seem like you’re hitting it off, that’s all.”

“Oh shove off!” Cassian nudged his friend with his shoulder, his eyebrows narrowed. “I’m just being friendly with her, that’s all. Don’t tell me you aren’t getting cozy with Elain yourself.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Cheap shot, Cass. I don’t even see her that often.”

“Whatever,” Cassian waved his hand, “you can’t tell me otherwise.” He walked into the living room and sank onto the couch, closing his eyes briefly. It did feel good, Cassian thought, with a pang in his chest, to pretend that he had a home again.

\---

Rhys’s house was as grand as Feyre remembered it. Rhys opened the door and held it open for her, his violet eyes looking at her anxiously. It was hard not to miss the fact that Rhys was a bit pale and nervous, as if he was getting ready to tell a secret he hadn’t been ready to share before.

She stepped inside and immediately heard two people arguing.

“Cass, you can’t keep being stubborn about this. We only get to stay here once every few months and you can’t even thank Rhys for the hospitality? God, you _know_ you can’t just go around breaking anything you like!”

Rhys paled even further and Feyre shot him a concerned glance.

“I didn’t break anything, Az, relax. And I’m here, aren’t I? Who cares if I sleep here or out there? It’s all the same anyway.”

“You know Rhys cares more than anything about your safety and you’ll do well to remember everything he does for us.”

“By the Cauldron, you’re such a mother hen. I know how much he does for us and I don’t want to burden him, okay? He pays for all my damn bills and now I’m making him let me use his home? This is ridiculous and you know it. We should be trying to get him _out_ of this hellhole, not making him stay here.”

When Feyre looked at Rhys again, the boy had one hand absentmindedly pressed to his cheek. She looked closer and realized in the few days she had seen him, she had missed a dark, fading bruise on his cheek. He noticed her looking and jerked away, slamming the door a bit too loudly, effectively cutting off the argument in the other room.

“Hello, Rhys.” Two figures appeared at the door. It was Azriel, the quieter one, the mysterious one.

“Hey,” he responded, tiredly, “another argument?”

Cassian didn’t even look sorry. “I’m not going to keep being a burden.”

“You aren’t.” Rhys rubbed his hand over his face, looking weary in ways Feyre couldn’t comprehend. “Look, I don’t want to have this conversation right now, okay? This is Feyre; I’m sure you guys remember her?”

“Ah yes,” Cassian grinned suddenly, “that hot girl you wanted all year.”

Rhys buried his face in his hands.

“Pleasure to meet you again.” Azriel nodded to her. “I’m heading up to the spare room, if that’s all right with you, Rhys.” He grabbed Cassian by the arm. “He’s staying tonight, don’t worry.”

Rhys waved his hand at his friends, dismissing them. Feyre watched as the two trudged up the stairs and down the hall. “Last time, you said you guys were having a sleepover.” Feyre said carefully.

The boy shifted uncomfortably. “We were.”

“That argument I just heard implies otherwise.” Feyre could see the pieces falling into place. “They’re homeless, aren’t they.”

Rhys sighed and led her over to the living room, where they sat on the couch. He stared into the emptiness of the room. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “They are.”

Feyre felt guilty for all the time she had ever thought her little apartment back at her old house was too small, too cramped. Having a home was better than living on the streets. “And you let them stay over when your father isn’t home?”

Rhys nodded.

She studied his face. There was purple under his eyes, and he looked extremely tired. Feyre was starting to wonder if his father’s wealth was killing him more than saving him. She had never thought of money as a burden.

“There’s more,” Rhys finally kept going, “Cassian’s mother has cancer and he has no way to get enough money to pay for the treatment so I pitch in with the costs. I work as much as I can to save up money for Cassian, for Azriel, for Mor, and for myself. Any spare time I have in the morning is spent pleasing my father at his studio or at my morning classes when school starts.”

“And Azriel?”

“He has a job at Hybern’s Bakery, which supplies him with a steady income and his boss owns the Hybern Hotel, which sometimes has empty rooms that he lets Azriel and Cassian use. But this just adds to the debt Azriel owes his boss for all these ‘favors’ but Azriel won’t let me help pay them off.”

Feyre’s head spun. No wonder Rhys looked so exhausted. “What about Mor? Doesn’t she own her own shop?”

Rhys closed his eyes briefly. “A year ago, just a week after you came to Velaris, Mor was sexually assaulted by a gang leader and ended up pregnant with a child. She hid in my house when it was getting extremely noticeable that she had a child and pretended that she was at a summer camp. My parents believed her to be Andromache, Mor’s best friend, and Mor managed to escape with her parents missing the fact that she had a child. Now her best friend cares for her daughter and every day, me, Az, or Cass, walk Mor to and from her shop to ensure that it never happens again. Yesterday when I was late for our date? I was taking her home.”

Feyre definitely felt ashamed that she had ever thought that her life was difficult. It was obvious that these people had much harder lives than she could ever imagine, and they were all struggling to just hold their heads above the water. She reached out and touched Rhys’s hand, which was clammy and cold.

“I hope your friends know that you are one of the most kind hearted people I have ever met.” She whispered. “I don’t know if I have ever met anyone willing to give up everything they have to help their best friends.”

Rhys opened his eyes and stared at her. “Why should they suffer, when I can help save them?”

“What about you?”

He blinked rapidly. “Me?”

Feyre nodded, meeting his gaze evenly. “Don’t you have any wishes? Any dreams? You’re trying to help your friends survive their pasts but what about you? You told me you hated your father, that you wished to get out of this house. Your friends mentioned that they wanted you out too.”

Rhys shook his head. “What matters most to me is that my friends are safe and sound.”

Feyre wanted to push, but she decided he had shared enough for the day. She put a hand on his arm, comforting him. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” He looked so forlorn, so lonely from where he was sitting. It was the best she could offer him, when it was obvious Rhys didn’t share much with his friends.

“Please.” Rhys whispered.

She texted her sisters quickly, telling them that she was staying over at Rhys’s house and would be fine. She knew she would get some teasing tomorrow morning, but it would be worth it.

When she looked up, Rhys had his eyes open and was staring at the ceiling. He still looked so troubled that Feyre knew immediately something else was pestering him. “Rhys?” She scooted closer to him now. “Is something wrong?”

There was several beats of silence and for a moment, Feyre thought he wouldn’t tell her.

“My father’s coming home tomorrow.”

She jerked away immediately, her eyes widening. “Tomorrow? It’s not Friday yet!”

“He decided to come home early. Amarantha’s flight landed first today and my father’s flight will land at exactly nine in the morning. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Azriel and Cassian. I promised them the whole week.”

He looked so defeated and in that moment, Feyre felt her heart tug. “It’s going to be fine.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”

He glanced at her then, his eyes a swirling mass of devastation. “I don’t know, Feyre,” he whispered, “I don’t know.”


	8. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter deals with abuse so if this is a trigger for anyone please skip the first portion!
> 
> also sorry for the long wait!!

Rhys tried not to be too nervous as he stood at the airport gate, waiting for his father to appear. He was trying not to pace and was failing miserably. The last week and a half had been such a great relief to Rhys that he dreaded his father’s return. He opened and closed his hands, trying to wipe away the sweat on his pants.

He suddenly wished he had asked Feyre to come with him. The artist had certainly offered, but Rhys had declined, saying that he hadn’t wanted to try to introduce her to his father, when she was to meet him on Friday anyway. Better for her to appear separate from Rhys, as his father loved to torment him.

“Rhysand,” a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts, “do you make a habit of standing here like a fool?”

He jerked to attention, his face burning. Of course his father had snuck up on him when he least expected it. “Get my bags.” The man barked. “Come along now; no need for us to dally here.”

Wordlessly, he followed his father, slipping into the driver seat of the car. It was as if someone else was controlling his body. He shut out everything else as he drove home, eyes trained on the road.

“Did you hear what I said?” His father snapped, irritated. “I want to go to the studio.”

Rhys immediately turned on the blinker and made a sharp turn. He focused on his breathing and tried to ignore the roaring in his ears. “You’re awfully silent today, son. Pray tell, what have you been doing with yourself these two weeks?”

“Nothing.” Rhys muttered.

“Nothing at all?” His father’s voice sharpened.

“Nothing at home,” he amended, “I watched over your studio like you asked.”

“Ah, then you noticed that Amarantha is also back as well.”

Rhys didn’t deign to respond to that. Even though he wasn’t looking, he could feel his father’s smile. “You two should get reacquainted. She certainly has taken a liking in you and the two of you would make a lovely couple.”

The boy had to try very, very hard not to wince. When Rhys pulled up at the studio, he hesitated before parking the car. “You had an appointment last Friday you didn’t reschedule before your travel trip.”

His father straightened his tie, unfazed. “Oh? I didn’t notice. Perhaps my manager boy failed to do his job in informing me.”

“It wasn’t Lucien’s fault.” Rhys immediately said, jumping to his friend’s defense. “I filed that folder away. I should have let you know; I assumed you had seen it before I cleaned it up.”

His father ran an assessing glance over him. “You are a terrible liar.” He told him. “What happened with the appointment then? Or do you not know that either and let incompetent Lucien deal with it?”

“I rescheduled it for this Saturday.”

“It’s good to know that you know how to do some business.”

Rhys let the insult slide, if only because he knew there was nothing he could do to counter it. “Are you going to tell me who is this person who wants to be interviewed for the studio? Unless you didn’t get his name either?”

“Her name is Feyre Archeron.” Rhys tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. “That’s all I know about her.”

A small smile from his father made it clear that he knew that was not true. Rhys hated him for knowing every small tell Rhys had. “Wait here.” His father ordered. “I’ll be out in a second.”

A second turned into an hour but Rhys couldn’t complain. He kept his mouth firmly shut about it, waiting patiently in the car until his father returned and then drove silently home. The freedom he had possessed while his father was gone disappeared.

 _Home at last._ Rhys thought, but it never felt like home to him. He opened the door and walked in silently, his eyes scanning the room immediately, praying Cassian and Azriel hadn’t left a thing behind.

It hadn’t been easy, telling them that his father was coming home early. Cassian had taken it fairly well, waving his hand and insisting he didn’t want to intrude anyway. Azriel had put a calm hand on Rhys’s shoulder and murmured his apologies.

His father walked around the living room slowly.

Rhys held his breath, then forced himself to breathe again, if only not to look guilty. He had to be careful around his father, because any sign of disobedience meant punishment. And his father had no qualms about who could see the marks he left behind.

At first, Rhys thought the room had passed inspection, because his father shook his head and turned to walk away. Rhys almost loosed a breath of relief.

But then he spotted something on the floor that made his heart stop. It was the picture frame his father had gotten him when he went to college, a mocking display of three lines that his father had said would be the product of Rhys’s Design major. It had shattered on the floor.

“What,” his father said quietly, “is the meaning of this?”

 _That wasn’t me._ Rhys almost blurted out. But he could not--would not--put Cassian or Azriel in danger.

So he said nothing.

“Had a little fit, now didn’t we?” Rhys’s father stepped closer to him. “I thought you liked that picture frame. It reminds you of your future, doesn’t it? Don’t you just regret making the decisions you’ve made.”

His eyes were smoldering and Rhys involuntarily closed his eyes, bracing himself. A hand slapped him across the face and Rhys flinched. _Fight back,_ some part of him demanded, _Fight back!_

“Useless,” his father snarled, this time letting his fist slam into his cheek, sending Rhys sprawling. “You don’t even appreciate all I have given you. Is that why you throw your money away mindlessly to those worthless people you call your friends? You give them everything and expect me to pay for it.”

Rhys curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut even harder. His hands came to rest above his face in an attempt to protect himself. “Clean up this mess and stop being a coward.” His father barked. Then he stomped away, storming up the steps and leaving Rhys alone.

He opened his eyes slowly and uncurled himself, trembling. A quick touch to his right cheek told him that it would bruise again. Thankfully, nothing was broken. Rhys pulled himself up, his breath coming in quick gasps and his hands shook as he tried to pick up the broken shards of glass.

“Master Rhys,” a servant suddenly appeared, “please, let me.”

“No,” he gasped, “no I can do this.”

If his father saw him letting the servants do his work for him, he would fire all of them. They didn’t deserve that. “Go rest.” The girl smiled gently at him, stopping him with her hands. “I’ll send an ice pack to your room later.”

Rhys wanted to protest, but his cheek was throbbing terribly and he knew he couldn’t persuade the servant otherwise. He stumbled up the steps, trying to keep quiet and entered his room before slumping against the door. Tears stung his eyes but Rhys tried to keep them back because he didn’t want to cry now. He never wanted to cry again. He was stronger than his father, he knew, yet he could never find it in himself to fight back, to lift a hand to defend himself.

He pulled out his phone and realized Feyre had texted him an hour ago.

 **FEYRE:** Hey, how’s it going with your father? I hope everything is all right. Do you want to get dinner tomorrow?

Rhys’s heart warmed at Feyre’s concern, but he typed back.

 **RHYS:** Can’t. Won’t be able to meet you for awhile. I’ll see you on Saturday for your appointment.

It was a lie. Rhys could go whenever he wanted, especially since his father couldn’t care less where he went in the day, as long as he showed up to the studio when his father requested it. But with the bruise already darkening on his cheek, Rhys didn’t want to let Feyre see him like this.

 **FEYRE:** :( Sorry to hear that. I’ll see you Saturday then.

Rhys felt a prickle of disappointment in his stomach. He didn’t want to let Feyre down like this but things were bad enough at home. He didn’t want to involve Feyre. A second later, she called.

“Hello?” Rhys picked up on the first ring.

“Hey,” Feyre’s voice was a little breathless, “I wanted to hear your voice, even if I can’t see you.”

Rhys smiled a bit. Just hearing her voice did make him cheer up a bit. “I wanted to hear your voice too.” He told her.

He could feel her smiling back at him. “Is everything okay at home?”

“Yeah,” Rhys lied, “everything’s fine. A bit tense since things are never that great between me and my father but nothing has happened.” _Lie, lie, lie._ But Feyre didn’t question him at all.

“Oh! That’s good.” She said, “I really want to see you.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes, “I want to see you too.”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday.”

It couldn’t be avoided, Rhys knew, because his father would want to see his interactions with Feyre so he could play with Rhys’s emotions. He prayed the bruise would be gone in three days.

“Do you want to keep talking?” Feyre asked tentatively. “You’re not busy, are you?”

“No, I’m not busy.” Rhys closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door. “I’d like to keep talking.”

“Okay.” There was relief in Feyre’s voice. “We’ll keep talking.”

It was reassuring to hear her voice, to talk with her normally as if nothing was happening in the world. Rhys let her voice calm him down, let her help him forget the horrors that existed in his house.

It would get better, Rhys told himself, even if he didn’t believe it, it would get better because Feyre was there to help him get through it.

\---

Cassian tried to look inconspicuous as he waited at the back of the line in the soup kitchen. It was not the most ideal place for him to be, but he had turned down the money Azriel had offered him for a meal. There was free food and Cassian wasn’t going to waste his brother’s money on himself.

He had already scanned the volunteers’ faces and was relieved to see that Nesta wasn’t there. He shuffled forward in the line and kept his eyes down. He was distracted by this morning, when Azriel and him had hurriedly cleaned up any mess they had made and then left. “Don’t leave any trace.” Azriel had warned him, though Cassian knew the rules.

But he was still angry from last night and the urge to break something had been too big to ignore. He didn’t want to see Rhys get bullied by his father anymore. He wanted Rhys to stand up and fight back.

So he made the choice for him and snatched the horrible picture frame off the mantle and shattered it on the floor.

He was done watching Rhys get his ass kicked for the rest of them.

“Cassian?”

He froze. He had been so distracted by his anger that he hadn’t noticed Nesta walk in. Slowly, he raised his head and met her curious gaze. “What are you doing here?” She asked him, frowning from where he stood in the line. “I thought you volunteered.”

“I do.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “After I eat.”

Nesta was still frowning. There was almost disapproval in her gaze as she stared at him. “Volunteers don’t take food from the line.”

Cassian felt some irritation rise up again. “Yeah?” He raised a mocking eyebrow at her. “And what are you going to do about that? Going to drag me out of line for needing the goddamn food?”

Nesta’s open expression shut off and Cassian was sorry he had snapped at her. But too many things had been happening over the past few days and he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He kept going in the line, snatching up a plate and letting the other volunteers serve him.

It wasn’t until he sat down that Nesta sidled over to him. “You’re not a volunteer, are you?”

“Took you long enough to find out.” Cassian grumbled.

Nesta pursed her lips. “You could have told me.”

“Oh? With that haughty expression on your face? You’d just scoff at me and tell me what a dirty street rat I am.” Cassian couldn’t stop the poison from seeping from his mouth. “What do you care anyway?” He flung the words from yesterday night in her face again.

The woman drew back, angry too. Cassian could see the fire simmering in her gaze but she studied him again. “What’s wrong, Cassian?” She asked quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Cassian’s voice rose. “What’s wrong is that my best friend lets his father beat the living daylights out of him and won’t do a thing to stop it. What’s wrong is I can’t do anything to stop it either because I need the money. What’s wrong is my mother is dying and I can’t do anything to stop that either.”

He couldn’t stop himself. He slammed the plate down next to him, some of the food flying everywhere. “Where you going?” Nesta’s voice sounded alarmed as she watched him stand up.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” He snapped and walked away.

\---

Mor went through the simple motions of her day in a dream.

She set up her shop, smiled and greeted Elain and Amren, worked diligently until their lunch break where she asked Elain to drop by the bakery again for some bread. She wanted to give some to Cassian and Azriel later if she saw them. Her mind was distracted from the news of Eris, and she found herself always looking outside, afraid to see him.

He knew of her shop, but he wasn’t allowed to come anywhere near it. The court had also ordered him to stay away from Mor, and her friends still walked her to and from her shop every day.

She knew logically, she was safe.

She was also worried about Rhys. Her cousin hadn’t called or dropped by at all, even though she had expected him today in the morning. Azriel had shown up instead, explaining briefly that Rhys had to go pick up his father and didn’t have the nerves to do anything but go to the airport and wait.

Mor kept staring at her phone, waiting for a text or call, wishing her cousin wasn’t so hard to reach at times like this. She had already sent him several text messages, but he had yet to reply.

“Mor?” Elain was back with the bread. “Where do you want these?”

“Hm?” She startled to attention. “Oh, can you please just put them in the back? Take whatever you want if you’re hungry.”

Elain nodded and seemed about ready to head to the back when she paused. “Are you all right?” Her voice was kind and soft.

Mor tried to nod and smile. “Fine,” she waved her hand limply. “Things are just rough at home, that’s all.”

If she was being honest, nothing was going on at home. Her parents left early in the morning and came home late at night and never paid attention to anything Mor did. It was paradise enough for her, since she hated it when her parents took a day off from work and stayed at home, their eyes tracking her everywhere, always waiting for her to slip up so they could scold her for her faults.

But she was lucky that they never hit her, not like Rhys’s father did to him.

“Sorry to hear that.” Elain hesitated again at the door. “If you ever need anyone to talk to about it, I’ll be around.”

“Thanks,” Mor replied genuinely, “that means a lot to me.”

Her coworker just smiled and walked to the back and Mor slumped against the counter. “Bad day?” A familiar voice chimed, “Here I was thinking I could take you out for some ice cream later.”

Mor looked up to see Andromache come in, smiling. “You close at six right? On me.”

“I should go to your house and see Lily,” Mor protested, “or help you buy groceries. I feel like I’m neglecting you two.”

“You came by yesterday.” Andromache nudged Mor gently with her shoulder. “Come on, live a little! It’s just ice cream. After, we can go shopping if you really want to and then you can come sleepover at my house.”

“Okay,” Mor relented, “where should I meet you?”

“I’ll come by at six to pick you up.” Andromache gave Mor a quick hug, which sent electric sparks up and down her arms. “See you then?”

Mor was so focused on the contact that Andromache was almost to the door before Mor remembered to call out. “See you then!”

Andromache gave her a bright smile, one that lit up the shop in ways the lights could not. Mor found herself grinning back, her heart fluttering madly in her chest. She wanted desperately to run out after her best friend and shout, “I love you!” but she didn’t want to ruin their friendship.

One day, Mor promised herself, she’d tell Andromache and see if she felt the same way back.


	9. Bare Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait again! i hope you enjoy <3

The walk with Mor to her shop was brisk and quiet. Cassian was grumpy and tired, more than ready to find a nice bench in the park and fall asleep. Sometimes, Cassian did wish he could stay at Rhys’s house or at the Hybern Hotel, even if it meant his friends sacrificing a bit of themselves.

Then he would berate himself for such an idea because he wanted nothing more than peace and freedom for his friends. That went the same for Mor, who had been looking more and more jittery after finding out about Eris.

“I’ll see you later.” Cassian said, even though he wasn’t sure if he was the one going to go pick Mor up. He hadn’t really seen Azriel all night. It had been three days since Rhys’s father had come home but Azriel had made himself scarce, working more hours than Cassian had seen him do. When he tried to ask Azriel about it, his friend had muttered something about Elain.

“Sure,” Mor said, looking a little distracted as she opened the door and disappeared inside. Cassian sighed a bit and stuffed his hands in his pockets before turning to go. He didn’t make it very far before someone yanked on his collar and slammed him against the wall.

“Are you a goddamn idiot?” Cassian heard Rhys’s voice from under the hood. His friend was in a black sweater and black sweatpants, the hood pulled low over his face.

“What the hell, man? Are you trying to mug me or something? What’s with all the shady clothes?” Cassian didn’t struggle under Rhys’s arms, but he was tense with shock. “Also why is your hood up? You look like a gangster. Scared the crap out of me.”

“Why did you break the picture frame?” Rhys demanded, ignoring all of Cassian’s questions.

“The picture frame?” For a moment, Cassian thought about denying the action. But Rhys knew him too well. “You know damn well why I broke it.”

Rhys gave him a little shake. “You had _no right_ , Cassian. That is my property and we had a deal! When you come and stay at my house you aren’t to break anything! _Anything!_ And of all the things you could break it had to be _that_ one.”

“You know I chose that one on purpose.” Cassian growled. “I didn’t do it for myself. I did it for you.”

“Maybe I didn’t want you to do that!”

“Don’t be such a coward.” Cassian scoffed. “You’re better than that.”

Rhys flinched from it, pushing away. “Don’t say that.”

Cassian pressed closer. He had to make Rhys understand that his father was nothing more than a controlling figure who dictated his son’s life. Rhys would always be a pawn if he didn’t fight back. “You have to stand up, Rhys. You have to show your father exactly what you’re made of. You can’t keep letting him toss you around like a child. You’re nineteen!”

“And what if I do fight back?” Rhys challenged, his voice wobbling. “What if I get my own house and step away from my father? He has the money to bribe lawyers and courts. He hasn’t given me a penny. What about your mother, Cassian? What about Mor’s child? What about Azriel’s debts? What about Lucien’s job? What about Feyre’s apartment?”

That was definitely a long list of things Rhys had to deal with. And sadly, it was all true. Rhys’s money provided for everyone around them. Cassian had forgotten that Rhys’s father owned the apartment building that not only Lucien stayed at, but the Archeron sisters. Which meant Nesta would be affected too.

“God, Cassian, I thought you’d get it by now. We _need_ the money and I can do nothing about it.”

“What did he do to you this time?” Cassian asked quietly. He felt a bit guilty now that Rhys had brought up the issue about money. He had been doing what he felt had been right, but he had done it without considering the consequences.

Rhys just turned away, his face still shadowed by his hood. “It doesn’t matter.”

In one, swift motion, Cassian ripped the hood off Rhys’s head. He swore, loud and filthy at the sight. The bruise covered his right cheek, dark and purple. It must have hurt like hell. Cassian winced inwardly at his own stupidity.

“Rhys--”

“Forget it.” The boy pulled away from his friend’s grasp and tugged his hood back on. “Just please, don’t make this harder for me.”

Then he was gone.

\---

Elain was just about to go on her lunch break when Azriel swept into the shop. She was surprised to see him, since he seemed to always be at the bakery, especially during the day. He had explained to her just a few days ago that he owed the boss a lot of money for letting him work and he wanted to pay back his debts as soon as possible.

He had never taken a day off, as far as Elain could remember.

“Hey Az!” Mor called from the cash register. “What brings you here?”

“Day off,” the man called back, “can I steal Elain away for an hour?”

Elain froze from where she was reorganizing some of the dresses. “Elain?” Mor sounded amused. “Sure, she’s somewhere in the racks. She can take her lunch break now.”

“Thanks.”

Elain knew she had moments before Azriel found her so she quickly hung up the last few dresses she had hanging from her arms. She spun around just as he stepped into the aisle, a smile on his face. “Hey,” she said breathlessly.

“Hey.” Azriel still had that quiet smile on his face. “Do you want to go with me to lunch?”

That would certainly take more than an hour, but Elain wondered if Mor would mind. “I made sandwiches at home,” she admitted, “but I have an extra. Perhaps we could just walk around?” In the weeks she had moved here, Elain hadn’t had much time to walk around and explore the city that much.

“It’d be my pleasure to show you around.”

Elain couldn’t hide her own smile as she went to the back to retrieve the sandwiches before meeting Azriel up at the front. “Are you sure you only want an hour?” Mor teased from where she was helping a customer. “Amren and I can handle things if you want to take more time off.”

Elain turned red at that but Mor just laughed, waving them off. Azriel rolled his eyes before pulling her outside. She handed him one of the sandwiches and together they walked to the center of the city, where the Sidra ran right through it. It was a gorgeous river and Elain loved to watch the sparkling water glitter as it surged onwards towards the ocean.

Velaris was undeniably pretty, but Elain had yet to figure out what Lucien had meant that day about it having a sinister day. She wondered if there was more to the glittering city than she had first realized.

“Let’s sit here.” Azriel tugged her down in the grass. “We’re close enough that we can go back to the shop whenever we want.”

Elain smiled at him. “The city is very lovely.”

“So are you.”

Her cheeks flared again and she quickly looked away, glancing down at his hand. She hadn’t noticed before, but both of his hands were flecked with scars. She reached out and covered his right hand with her left one.

“What happened?” She asked quietly.

Azriel didn’t seem like he was breathing. He was more focused on their joined hands than anything else. “I don’t remember much of it. From what I remember, there was a burning pot on the stove and just white hot pain.” He looked away for a brief moment, his left hand rubbing against his jaw. “I don’t know which of my parents it was or if it was one of my brothers.”

Elain felt her heart reach out to him at this story. “Well, you deserve better than them.” She hoped he no longer stayed with them.

“I haven’t seen them since I was seven.” Azriel admitted. “So I have no idea how they’re doing or if they are even still in this city.”

She squeezed his hand. “Well if they ever see you, they will regret having let you go because you are worth more than anyone else I know.”

A bit of pink touched his cheeks. “You really think so?”

“Yes.” Elain met his gaze evenly. He was beautiful in his own way, even with the scars on his hands. She didn’t think them as hideous, and she certainly thought Azriel’s natural quietness added on to his kind personality. He knew when to hold back and let the silence comfort you rather than using words. And even though shadows seemed to follow him everywhere, Elain felt safer with him than with anyone else.

“You’re extraordinary.” Azriel whispered as he leaned closer. “I can’t keep my eyes off you.”

Her lips parted slightly as she tilted her head back to keep looking at him. Then, without warning, his mouth touched hers and he kissed her lightly.

A gasp escaped her and he pulled away slightly but then Elain was grabbing his shirt and tugging him back. She kissed him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him close. His mouth was soft and his hands were tender.

He was a tidal wave coming to sweep her away and Elain let him.

\---

Feyre showed up fifteen minutes early for her appointment. It was one in the afternoon and Feyre was extremely nervous. She fidgeted in her seat, clutching her portfolio as a child would with a toy.

She wondered when Rhys would be here. He had mentioned that he would see her on Saturday, and Feyre assumed he would be here at the studio since his father was back. She desperately wanted to see him.

They had texted throughout the days, but he didn’t pick up any of her calls since the day his father had come home. Feyre was worried about him.

Then suddenly he swept in, a woman perched at his arm. Feyre sucked in her breath for two reasons, her eyes focused on the woman. _Amarantha._ She had nearly forgotten that the red-haired woman was an employee of Rhys’s father.

“Oh hello again!” Amarantha beamed at her, a flash of white teeth that looked nothing like a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“She’s here for an interview.” Rhys said calmly, his eyes avoiding hers.

She nearly gasped when she glanced at him. A dark bruise bloomed on his right cheek, marring his beautiful features. None of the employees batted an eyelash at this sight, as if it was a common occurrence. She wanted to ask him on it, but it was clear that this was not the place to ask.

“Your interview will be in five minutes.” Rhys continued. “Apologies for the long wait.”

“N-no, it’s fine.” Feyre stammered, unsure what she should say.

She glanced at the wall, unable to help the glimmer of awe at the magnificent paintings that lined the walls of the studio. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Amarantha chimed in, “I painted all of these by myself.”

Feyre gaped at the red-haired woman. “You?”

“Yes,” Amarantha flipped her hair to the other side, smiling at Feyre again. “Not only do I work here, but Mr. Serrano likes my work enough that he displays any art I have. It’s truly an honor.”

Feyre felt her heart sink. If all of these paintings were Amarantha’s, what chance did Feyre have? Her art was nothing compared to these paintings of the underground caverns, the dark beauty of the night.

She had painted the wondrous light of Velaris, the glittering night sky, and the breathtaking view of shooting stars. She had taken the darkness and the evilness associated with night and turned it into a beautiful background to be treasured.

But was that what Rhys’s father wanted?

His last name hit Feyre in the chest. _Serrano._ Nesta had mentioned the first day that she had to meet with the owner of the building. _Oh God_ , Feyre struggled to hide her shock. Rhys’s father owned the apartment she lived at.

This seemed to be getting worse and worse.

“Feyre Archeron?” A red-haired man stood at the door to the next office. “Mr. Serrano is ready for your interview.”

Feyre stood up shakily, nearly falling over. Rhys caught her by the arm, his touch familiar and strange at the same time. “Steady,” he murmured, “don’t be afraid.”

She glanced at him but his face showed no signs of anything. “I wish you luck on your interview.” He said formally, already leading Amarantha away, who held onto his arm like her life depended on it.

Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she approached the office. The man’s name-tag said Lucien, and Feyre thought he looked familiar. “Are you Ms. Archeron?” The man asked her.

“Yes.”

“Very well. Please step inside.” He ushered her in before closing the door behind her.

A stern looking man looked up from his desk. He looked almost nothing like Rhys, with the harsh lines on his face and the cold, bleak look in his gray eyes. “Ms. Archeron, pleased to meet you. Take a seat, if you would.”

Feyre slid into the seat and perched on the edge of it like it was dangerous. She placed her portfolio on the desk and in moments, Rhys’s father had it open and was sifting through the papers.

It was several minutes before he spoke again, and Feyre’s heart thundered against her chest. “It has come to my knowledge that you know my son, Rhysand.”

“Yes,” Feyre didn’t know what else to say. “I met him a year ago.”

“Ah,” Rhys’s father nodded slowly. “You are new to the city, though, correct?”

“Yes.” Feyre said again. “My sister bought an apartment room from you.”

“That’s right.” The man frowned at her. “You are awfully young to be looking into displaying your artwork.”

“I still go to art school.” Feyre replied, a little defensively. “But I wanted to give my hand at seeing if I could display some of my work in a few studios. Money is hard to get these days and I wanted to help in any way I could.”

She closed her mouth quickly, in case she said too much. She didn’t know anything about Rhys’s father other than the fact that he was strict and cruel. And he likely had given that bruise to Rhys.

“Well, you are certainly right to try. These pieces are extraordinary. I will consider which ones to put up.” His father stood and Feyre hastily rose as well. “It’ll be a pleasure to be working with you, Feyre Archeron.” His smile was cold.

It almost seemed too easy. The praise had been genuine--Feyre had heard enough people’s compliments to know which were real and which were false--but there was more to his offer than he was telling her. She suspected the reason for his quick acceptance lay beyond this door with a violet-eyed boy.

“Thank you.” Feyre shook his hand, trying to stay calm.

“I’ll contact you within the next few days to further discuss this matter with you. Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to other matters.”

She mumbled her thanks again and gathered up her paintings before shuffling back out the door. Rhys was still in the lobby, thankfully alone. He walked up to her immediately, his violet eyes worried. “Well?” He didn’t even let her speak first.

“He said yes.” She murmured, but she didn’t smile.

Rhys looked tense. “That’s great,” he acknowledged, “Did he say which pieces he’ll display?”

“No, he said we’ll discuss that in the next few days.” Feyre shifted uncomfortably. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the bruise on his face. “You didn’t tell me that your father owned the apartment I lived at.”

Rhys grimaced. “I try to avoid any topic that includes my father in it.”

She reached up and lightly touched his cheek. He flinched from her fingers. “Did he do this to you?”

Rhys didn’t say anything.

Feyre grabbed his hands and looked him square in the eyes. She didn’t want him to shut her out. She wanted to know more about him, to discover the real him that was hidden and locked away. She wanted to make him smile again and to show him the beauty she had seen in Velaris. The beauty she had painted.

The city wasn’t just the dark, cruel elegance that Amarantha had painted. There were gems hidden deep in the city that she intended to uncover, and Feyre knew that one of them was standing right in front of her.

“Will you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

“It’s Sunday.” Rhys said.

“I know.” Feyre smiled this time. “But I want to spend the day with you. I want to have a perfect day.”

A small smile touched his lips. “Like last year?”

“Yes,” Feyre leaned up and lightly pecked his left, untouched cheek. “Like last year. And if you’re lucky, I’ll give you a kiss for it too. Maybe more.”

Rhys laughed a little and led her to the door. “I’m looking forward to it already.”

Feyre felt a glimmer of happiness unlock in her heart at the sight of his smile, his joy. “Meet me at seven.” Was all she said before she headed out the door.


	10. I'll Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

Nesta didn’t expect to see Cassian standing right outside her apartment, looking for all the world like he was just watching the cars drive by. She was so surprised she dropped her bag on the sidewalk, the contents scattering.

Her clipboard smacked him in the leg.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, bending to pick it up. Cassian’s hand stopped her as he scooped up the fallen folders and clipboards and placing them in her bag. Without saying a word, he held out the bag to her, his eyes downcast.

“Thank you.” Nesta said as she accepted her bag from his hand. “What are you doing in front of my apartment?”

“Waiting.”

“For?”

Cassian bit his lip, looking uncomfortable. “You.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the feeling of pleasure in her stomach. She had wanted to see Cassian, especially after his outburst the other day, but she had no idea where she could even find him. She had wanted to ask Feyre if her younger sister knew anything about where Cassian could be staying, but she didn’t want to endure the teasing.

And Feyre had come home last night looking very worried so Nesta didn’t want to press.

“Why me?” Nesta asked, her tone a bit too sharp even for her own liking. She berated herself and told her brain to be gentler.

“I don’t know.” Cassian raked a hand through his unruly curls. “Maybe I just wanted to apologize or something. I didn’t mean to snap at you the other day. I was...upset about other things.” It had already been four days since Nesta had seen him. The apology was certainly surprising.

“You’re entitled to be upset about anything you want.” Nesta brushed by him. “I don’t need an apology.”

Cassian followed her doggedly. “Are you going to the hospital today? Do you ever take a day off?”

“I can’t afford to take a day off.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you stop sticking your nose into my business?” Nesta snapped back, unable to stop the retort. She wasn’t used to any men trying to pry into her private life. Why did she work? She needed money, that’s why.

“You need money.” Cassian guessed. “Because you have two younger sisters to care for.” When Nesta didn’t reply, Cassian blew a long sigh. “I should have known this was about money. Every damn thing is about money.”

She recalled his last words to her about how he was powerless to stop the things he hated, because he relied on money. Money he didn’t seem to have, if he was eating at the soup kitchen. The first day she had been working, he must have been there to get food as well and had been playing with the kids. She had been fooled.

“I looked into your mother’s files,” Nesta said hesitantly. Cassian tensed noticeably. “She’s well on her way to surviving the cancer. There is a high chance she’ll recover from it.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Cassian stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared straight ahead as they walked. “I’m not stupid. I’ve seen it. She’s not going to live past this month probably.”

Well, she tried. Nesta was distinctively uncomfortable with comforting others on a personal level, since she was used to the distance nurses and patients usually had. She only knew how to console others, and trying to tell Cassian to feel better was taxing. It didn’t help that he made it so much harder by being so difficult.

If it had been any other man, Nesta would have given up and asked him to stay out of her life and to stop bothering her. But Nesta felt the pull every single day she saw him and she couldn’t bring herself to push him away, not when he so desperately needed someone to talk to.

“There’s still a chance.” Nesta offered weakly.

“Yeah, whatever.”

They were drawing closer to the hospital. Suddenly, Nesta didn’t want to spend the day talking to the doctors, wheeling patients in and out of the rooms, and checking on her daily rounds of patients. Her job suddenly seemed to be a yawning pit of boredom that would swallow Nesta whole.

Cassian seemed to notice it to, because he said. “I want to take you on a date.”

Nesta recoiled instantly. “A what?”

“A date.” He peered at her. “Are you hard of hearing?”

“No,” she retorted, “I just--”

“What?” Cassian frowned at her panicked expression. “Do you have something against men? Have you ever been out with anyone before? I just want to take you out to lunch or something, maybe a walk in the park, or I don’t know. I’m not really well versed in this whole dating thing either.”

Nesta couldn’t help but be a bit surprised. Cassian seemed as if he would have been smooth with girls, picking them up left and right. He was studying her face and noticed immediately her shock.

“You’d be surprised at how hard it is to impress girls when you’re homeless.” Cassian said it so nonchalantly that Nesta almost missed it.

She was careful to keep her face unchanged. It took her awhile to process the information. “How long have you been homeless?”

Cassian shook his head and stared out into the city. “A year or so. I’m getting used to it. I had to sell the house when my mom got sick and I needed to try to pay the hospital bills. When even that wasn’t enough for the rising cost of the medicine, I had to ask my friend Rhys to help pay. Things have gone to hell for him since then and I feel horrible about it.”

“It’s not your fault.” Nesta tried to stay gentle about this.

“No,” Cassian agreed, “but it still feels like I should be able to do something about it. Rhys works hard enough. He goes to Velaris University to try to get a Design major but his father gives him so much crap about it. Rhys honestly provides for all of us and last year, it took a turn for the worse. I don’t know what any of us would have done if Rhys hadn’t stepped in. It’s not just me--it’s all our friends.”

Nesta blinked. Feyre had talked about Rhys in a positive manner, telling Nesta and Elain that he had been a kind boy who had walked her around Velaris when she was stuck in the city after her flight had been rescheduled. And now lately, Nesta knew that Feyre and Rhys had been spending more time together, but she hadn’t realized how the boy had played into other people’s lives.

“It’s not just my mother’s bills.” Cassian rubbed his hand against his jaw absentmindedly. They were standing in front of the hospital now, but Nesta made no move to go in. She just stared at Cassian, unsure what else to do. “I...I want to get enough money to integrate myself back into life. I want to go to school. I want to become a teacher.”

The thought was heartwarming. Nesta had seen Cassian with those children and she knew he would be an excellent teacher. She wished she could help him, even if it was only a little. And in that moment, he looked so sad that Nesta blurted out. “Do you want to go and get something to drink? It’s awfully hot today and I’m craving some iced tea.”

Cassian perked up immediately. “I’d love to.” He seemed to deflate again as he remembered something. “But I don’t have any money.”

“Not to worry.” Nesta reassured him. “I can pay for us both.”

Cassian was already backing away. “I can’t do that to you, Nesta. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“No, wait!” Nesta protested, chasing after him a little. “I want to pay for you. Please.” The word flew out of her mouth before she could choke it back down.

Cassian’s eyes softened and he took her hands in his gentle ones. “Really, I’d love to go, Nesta, but I can’t ask you to pay for me. Plus,” he added, “I have to go meet Azriel for something.”

Nesta could see that he was lying, but she didn’t push him on it. “Someday then.” She whispered. “Will you go with me?”

“Of course.” Cassian squeezed her hands. “I promise I’ll take you out one day.”

\---

Azriel took her out the next day.

Elain had walked with him, hand in hand, smiling like an angel. He wasn’t worried about skipping another day of work, when he had told his boss he would come back after noon to work a nine hour shift. The morning was reserved for Elain and Azriel would make sure she enjoyed it.

They had gone out for ice cream and were now eating it under the blazing sun next to the Sidra. Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off the woman, who was delicate and beautiful in every way possible. His eyes kept sliding to her lips--the ones he had kissed not even twenty-four hours ago. God, Azriel wished he could do it again.

“Do you want to come over one day and bake?” Elain glanced over at him, pink touching her cheeks as she spooned another bit of ice cream into her mouth. Some of the foam stayed on her lips, and Azriel fought the urge to lick it off.

“Bake what?” Azriel asked her.

“Anything.” The woman smiled towards the river, facing forward again. “What do you like to bake?”

“Cakes, muffins, bread…” Azriel shook his head. “I know and love to bake anything if I’m being honest.”

“Cupcakes are the best.” Elain declared. “I love to decorate so whenever I have ingredients, I make batches of cookies and cupcakes at home. It satisfies my love for the art and it attracts Feyre’s sweet tooth.” Elain let out a little laugh. “The goods are always gone the next day.”

Azriel loved the sound of her laugh. He wanted to somehow store a bit of it so he could listen to it whenever he was down. “I’d love to come over then.” Azriel reached out and slipped his fingers into Elain’s. Her slim hand fit snugly in Azriel’s larger one.

“Next week.” Elain leaned back against him. “I’ll buy some cooking supplies to get ready for it. What day are you free?”

If Azriel was being honest with himself, he wasn’t free any day. He needed to work every day in order to continue to pay off the debts that was piling because Hybern was going to provide rooms for Cassian and him for the next few days. Azriel wanted to say no but his boss didn’t take no for an answer and would charge him anyway.

“Sunday.” Azriel decided. “I can be free next Sunday.”

“Perfect!” Elain looked content and Azriel’s heart warmed to her. “I can’t wait already.”

Azriel wished he could make more time for her. He had known her for only a little over a week now but Elain felt like the perfect girl for him. They had easily gotten to know each other he was comfortable just sitting here. There wasn’t many people Azriel knew how to talk with normally and Elain was one of them. It didn’t feel right to limit his time with her because of his work.

“What are you thinking?” Elain twisted to peer at his face. 

“I want to see you more often.” Azriel explained.

“You have work.” Elain reminded him. “So do I.”

Azriel felt guilty. He hadn’t thought about her work at all. Sure, Mor would probably let her off as many days as Elain wanted, but those would be days where Elain wouldn’t get paid. She had told him that she needed to raise as much money as possible to help pay for the apartment and to help get Feyre through college.

“Even so,” Azriel sighed, “I want to see you more.”

Elain touched her other hand to his face, her ice cream forgotten. “I wish we could as well.” She agreed quietly. Azriel closed his eyes briefly against her touch, unable to do anything but unravel at the gentleness. “Once we have our bakery, we will spend many happy days together.”

“I like that idea.” Azriel whispered, cupping his hand around hers so that her right hand rested on his left cheek.

\---

“How are you still eating?” Feyre demanded as they walked around the fifth street market in Velaris. Every market had a unique assortment of food and clothing. Feyre had already bought several skirts and dresses she wanted to wear and Rhys had proceeded to buy a ton of food _at every market_.

Feyre was stuffed and Rhys was still munching on something that suspiciously smelled like fried chicken. All the food had been scrumptious but Feyre had eaten so much that she literally could not put another bite into her mouth. She was sipping on strawberry lemonade, feeling content just walking next to Rhysand.

“It’s good.” Rhys protested. “Here, try another bite.”

“I can’t!” Feyre groaned. “My stomach is so full I’m going to burst.” She poked Rhys in the stomach. “What sorcery do you use to fit all this food in your stomach?”

He squeaked in protest from her fingers, squirming. “When you come out to the markets you _have_ to eat.”

“I did!”

“Not enough.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Not everyone can eat five bags of chocolate popcorn and then eat fried fish without batting an eyelash. That was perhaps the most disgusting transition of food I’ve ever had in my life.”

“But both were good.” Rhys reminded her.

She reigned in her smile. He was right, of course, all the food was delicious, but it didn’t exactly compensate for the fact that she had tried fried fish with chocolate still in her mouth.

She took another sip of her strawberry lemonade to erase the memory of the taste. Rhys pulled out a blueberry tart from his bag. “Here, eat this instead. These taste like heaven, I promise.”

Feyre wanted to protest but she had to admit that the sweet looked appealing. She accepted the food from him and took a bite out of it, nearly groaning in pleasure from the burst of sweetness in her mouth.

“Told you.” Rhys grinned, crumbs lining his mouth. “It’s never impossible to keep eating.”

“I’m going to get fat.” Feyre grumbled.

“With all this walking you won’t.” Rhys teased. “I’m surprised you haven’t complained about sore feet yet. Mine are positively aching.” His eyes sparkled with amusement and Feyre wanted to grin and bask in his happiness. She had never once seen him this thrilled before, as if he had forgotten everything else in his life.

She took his hand. “Oh, don’t worry. My feet are on fire but I can handle it if it means I get to spend more time with you.”

In one swift motion, Rhys kissed her square on the mouth.

Feyre didn’t care that they were out in the open and in the middle of the market. She threw both arms around him and kissed him hard. She tasted everything that Rhys had eaten in the past hour but she didn’t care about any of that as they got tangled in each other’s arms. She wanted to spend a million days like this, living and laughing with her friend.

“You’re exquisite.” Rhys gasped when he pulled away from her. “I can’t imagine doing anything without you.”

Feyre smiled and kissed his cheek lightly, right over the bruise that was still fading. He didn’t flinch this time, just stared at her with wide eyes. “You’re perfect, did you know that?”

Rhys smirked. “Oh, I know that.”

Feyre laughed, feeling a flutter of extreme happiness when Rhys laughed alongside her. She loved it when he laughed, when he smiled. It was as if a thousand stars lit up in the night sky, illuminating the world with its brightness.

She wanted to teach him the beauty she had seen in this city and make him love his hometown. Because that day she had spent with him in Velaris had been a perfect day and Feyre never wanted that to end.

They were twin stars, shooting over the world, and their love was the bright streak that painted the sky, declaring it for everyone to see.

And when he kissed her again, Feyre thought she would never stop glowing.


	11. Don't Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!!

Mor had asked Andromache if she had wanted to get lunch and was pleased when the girl said yes. She had originally wanted to let Andromache drive her downtown but it had been a couple days since Mor’s failed attempt to walk to her best friend’s house alone. She rarely walked the streets; she only did it when she was going to and from her house with Cassian or Azriel because they couldn’t drive.

“Let’s walk.” Mor had said when Andromache had fished out her keys.

Andromache had shot her a brilliant smile and lit Mor’s heart on fire. “I’m fine with that.” She tucked her keys into her pocket for the house key and the two of them headed outside, breathing in the fresh summer air. 

Like any other day she walked outside, Mor felt a rush of anticipation--and dread. But this time with Andromache, Mor felt as if she really could tackle the world.

They went at an easy pace, strolling through the city. They explored the city, taking their time passing familiar shops and deciding over which restaurant or cafe they wanted to have lunch at. “How about here?” Andromache pointed at a small cafe that they had been to before.

It would be have easy to just settle for the comfortable, quiet place but Mor wanted to see more of the city on foot. “Can we come back later?” Mor asked, trying not to sound too desperate. She was hungry, but she was more hungry for the city than for actual food.

Andromache got it immediately. “Of course we can. Let’s keep walking.”

Then before Mor could do anything else, Andromache closed her hand around Mor and set off past the cafe. All Mor could do for a couple blocks was stumble and follow along, unable to comprehend that she was holding Andromache’s hand. Her slim fingers fit perfectly with Mor’s and Mor felt herself relaxing. She couldn’t find her voice to ask what Andromache was thinking so they walked in comfortable silence instead.

It was twenty more minutes before Andromache stopped at a park and turned to face Mor, her hand still tucked in Mor’s. “You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

Mor was so startled she just stared at her best friend. She didn’t understand what Andromache was asking. Of course she knew she could tell the girl anything--she already did. Andromache knew all about Eris and Lily, knew about her horrible parents and Rhys’s kindness. She even knew Cassian and Azriel, though Andromache never did more than say hello to them when she saw them briefly at Mor’s shop. What more was there to tell?

She knew the answer to that. It lay in her heart and everything else she wanted with Andromache.

“Of course I know that.” She managed to say. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. Confess? Mor wasn’t ready to tell Andromache that she loved her and that she wasn’t straight. It wasn’t even something she had told Rhys and she told her cousin everything as well.

Andromache peered closer at Mor and the blonde-haired girl squirmed under her gaze. “That day you were planning to come to my house,” she began and Mor nearly deflated in relief that this had nothing to do with whatever was between them, “why did you really stay home?”

Mor frowned. She couldn’t even remember her excuse for why she couldn’t make it to Andromache’s house to see Lily and talk with her best friend. It was one of the many lies she had told people to disguise her fear of the streets of Velaris.

“I--” Mor could feel her cheeks heat up. Shame ate away at her stomach.

Andromache took her other hand as well and squeezed them both. “I’m not afraid of the truth, Mor.”

Mor couldn’t keep looking at Andromache’s kind eyes. She dropped her gaze, studying the grass surrounding her shoes. “I closed the shop early that day because I planned to walk to your house that day. I didn’t want to force Cassian to walk the extra distance there when he’s exhausted every day.”

“Okay.” Andromache nodded as if this was normal. “So what happened?”

Mor looked up sharply. “Nothing happened.”

Andromache looked disapproving of Mor’s response. “Nothing happened yet you didn’t come that night.”

Mor opened and closed her mouth, unable to find a response. Andromache squeezed her hands again. “You can tell me anything.” She said again.

She took a deep breath. Another. Steeling herself for the reply, Mor glanced back down at her feet. “I couldn’t walk the streets by myself. I was...I was afraid.”

“Are you afraid now?”

Mor shook her head. Of course she wasn’t. She was always able to walk the streets with Velaris with Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys when they went to and from her house and the shop. But she had never ventured anywhere beyond their set routes. Walking the streets today...it felt different.

With Andromache, Mor felt like she could do anything.

“One day.” Andromache said quietly, leaning in closer. “One day you’ll walk the streets alone again.”

“One day.” Mor whispered back quietly.

She couldn’t help it. Her eyes flitted down to Andromache’s lips. They were only inches apart. Mor’s heart beat a little faster as she thought about lowering her head so that their lips brushed against one another.

Before she could make up her mind, Andromache pulled away. “Let’s keep going.” She suggested.

Mor readily agreed, even though she felt a stone of disappointment.

\---

When Rhys had found Cassian on the street, Cassian was a little surprised that he had asked him to walk with him. His car was nowhere in sight, even though Rhys would need to go to work later and the walk home would be terribly long. But Cassian didn’t ask any questions as they set out together.

It was a few blocks of silence before Cassian nudged his friend. “What’s eating you?”

“Feyre and I spent the whole day yesterday in the markets.”

Cassian cast Rhys a bemused glance. He didn’t understand why Rhys looked as if Feyre had broken up with him. Maybe she had. “Did you two fight?”

“No.” Rhys ran a hand through his hair. “We were perfect.”

Cassian waited for there to be more. When Rhys continued to say nothing, Cassian twisted around to stare at him. “What’s wrong, Rhys?”

The younger boy scowled and rubbed a hand over his face, right over the still fading bruise. “I don’t know.”

Cassian fought the urge to grab Rhys by the shoulders and shake him. Before he could say anything, however, Rhys blurted out. “I don’t think I should see Feyre anymore.”

Spluttering, Cassian could only stare incredulously at his friend. “Are you insane? Didn’t you just say you two were perfect? Why would you give up all that?” Rhys and Feyre looked inseparable. Cassian knew he could only wish for something like that with Nesta--or with any woman in fact.

“She doesn’t deserve to get pulled into this mess.” Rhys stared at the ground, his fingers still lingering over his cheek. Cassian felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach about Rhys’s bruise. He knew he shouldn’t have broken the picture frame but Cassian was still not sorry he had done it. Not completely at least.

“Feyre will want to decide that for herself.”

Rhys scowled again. “When I finish college, I’m going to leave forever. I hate this city. I hate my father. I don’t want Feyre to be dragged into this hellhole only for me to leave her behind forever.”

“Who’s to say she won’t go with you?”

His friend shook his head, adamant. “She deserves better than me.”

Cassian couldn’t understand where this was coming from. “Rhys. She remembered you even after a year away from this city and you know she’s not afraid of your history. She loves you despite it and will continue to love you even with all this crap your father is putting you through. Don’t do her a disservice by saying she can’t handle it.”

“I know she can,” Rhys protested, “but I don’t want her to.”

“Well tell her that yourself.” Cassian shook his head. “Don’t just turn your back on her.”

Rhys sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay with her.” Cassian had to make Rhys understand this. “She’s good for you, Rhys, but not _too_ good for you. I’ve never seen you happier than since Feyre moved to Velaris.” It was true. Despite Rhys’s father’s return, Rhys had never seemed happier. Cassian would sacrifice anything to keep these smiles on Rhys’s face. “Promise me you won’t let her go.”

Rhys was quiet for a long moment before he whispered. “All right.”

Cassian felt a bit of tension go out of his shoulders but before he could change the topic, he heard an all-too familiar sneer. “Well look who it is. It’s the street rat and the little bastard.”

Eris was smiling cruelly a few paces away. Cassian bristled and saw red. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk.” Eris smirked. “Am I not allowed to walk these streets?”

Cassian desperately went through his knowledge of Mor’s schedule. Thankfully she seemed to be at work but it would be her lunch break soon. Cassian prayed fervently that Mor would not come out of her shop even for lunch.

Rhys didn’t say a word, not even as Eris ran his eyes over him. “What’s with the bruise?” Eris mocked. “Another one of your father’s friends come and rough you up? I keep forgetting--was it one of them that sired you?”

Cassian couldn’t help what came next. His fist collided with Eris’s jaw, sending the bigger man stumbling back. “You--” Eris righted himself, his eyes livid. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Get the hell out.” Cassian snapped back. “And don’t come back.”

Eris just leered at him and smiled briefly at Rhys. “Maybe you should let me into your house so I can do more than just bruise up your pretty little face. You think your father takes males too?”

Cassian growled, almost lunging for the other man again. He didn’t understand how such a kind and considerate person like Lucien had such a snake for a brother. Rhys’s hand gripped his arm, forcing him to stop. Eris loped away, obviously pleased with himself.

“What were you thinking?” Rhys asked furiously. “You shouldn’t mess with Eris.”

“I wasn’t going to stand here while he insulted you.”

“His words mean nothing.”

“Like your father’s words?”

Cassian immediately regretted it when Rhys flinched. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. Rhys--”

His friend pushed away. “I need to go to work.”

He left Cassian standing there, staring after him.

\---

“Trentino. I want you in my office. Now.”

Azriel dried his hands on his apron and reluctantly followed his boss into his office in the back of the bakery. It was never exactly a good thing when Hybern invited Azriel to talk to him. On the better days, Hybern would invite Azriel and Cassian to stay a few days in the Hybern Hotel. On the bad days, Hybern would threaten to take Azriel’s job and lower his salary back to minimum wage.

Today seemed to be a bad day.

“Sit down.”

Azriel took a seat, his hands clenching the arm rests. Hybern sat at his own chair, his cruel eyes running over Azriel, stripping him bare. “Sven says he saw you with a pretty little thing the other day. The one day you asked for a day off.” Azriel tried not to stiffen and failed. He knew it had been a mistake to ask for a day off. His boss knew that he needed the money and would never take days off.

But he had wanted to make a day for Elain so badly.

“Miss Archeron, wasn’t it?” Hybern smiled, though it was a cold smile. “I didn’t know you had become so enraptured with her.”

“I’m not.” Azriel said, even though he knew it was a blatant lie.

“Of course not.” Hybern readily agreed. “You wouldn’t be thinking of skipping any more days with her, would you?”

“No.” Azriel said, refusing to drop his gaze. 

“Good boy.” Hybern said, even though it made Azriel see red. “Now if one of my men reports you fooling around with her again, I’ll make you work from the ground up again. Or maybe I’ll just cut you from the job and see how you’ll pay off your loans.”

Azriel forced himself to keep quiet, though he still refused to back down. He stared calmly into his boss’s icy gaze. “That won’t be necessary.”

“That’s what I thought.” Hybern said smugly. “Now go back to work.”


	12. Give Me a Reason To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some angst but some fluff to end c: the title sorta doesn't make sense but i was trying to make it apply to all the diff characters in this chapter

“Can you repeat that again?” Mor called from where she was dressing the mannequins. She had been surprised when Elain had arrived a whole hour earlier to work but Elain needed her help.

“Azriel is ignoring me and I don’t know why.” Elain repeated. She hadn’t seen him since Monday and tomorrow was going to be Thursday. Though they had not made promises until Sunday, Elain wanted to make sure nothing was happening between them.

“He’s just busy,” Mor reassured her, “He’s working his ass off to get more money since Hybern gave him and Cassian rooms in the hotel for these few days and that just adds to his debts.”

Elain felt guilty for thinking this was solely about her. But still, she wished he would at least let her know what was wrong. “Does he have a lot to pay off?”

“Yes but Azriel says he should only have a few more months left before he can quit his job at Hybern’s.”

Quitting wasn’t the only thing he wanted, Elain knew. He would need another job if he was to survive and get his own home but baking was his best talent. She knew he wanted to keep to his job, even if it meant slaving away for a boss who hated him.

“Don’t sweat about it.” Mor popped her head out from behind a stack of clothes. “Why don’t you talk to him when you go get the bread for lunch?”

“All right,” Elain agreed, though she still felt nervous about the whole thing.

The steady stream of customers helped keep Elain’s mind off the matter as she went about, giving advice to customers, and restocking the racks when the supply got low. Amren wasn’t here today and so Elain and Mor had to adjust their tasks to work around the lack of an employee.

By the time lunch finally rolled around, Elain was exhausted. But she was re-energized by the idea of seeing Azriel and when Mor told her she could take her lunch break, she was out the door before she could remember to say goodbye.

The walk to Hybern’s Bakery gave Elain some time to gather her thoughts. She didn’t want to take up too much of Azriel’s time since he was working, but she wanted answers. She just wanted to be sure that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

A blast of warm air shot past Elain as she walked into the bakery. She searched for Azriel immediately but he must have been in the back because she didn’t see him immediately. She headed for the bread section, looking for her favorites to bring back to Mor’s shop.

She turned the corner and nearly ran into a man who was leaning against the shelf, his head pressed to his arm.

“Azriel?”

He looked up, a flash of confusion darting across his face. “Elain? What are you doing here?”

“To get bread,” Elain peered at him, “like I always do.”

“Oh, right.”

He rubbed a hand across his face and still didn’t move from the shelf. “Azriel?” She tried again, “Is everything all right? I haven’t seen you in a few days and every time I come here to buy bread you disappear into the kitchen even though you’re never done with your job out here.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Azriel said hurriedly, turning away from her, “Hybern is just keeping me busy, that’s all.”

Elain frowned. “Are you still coming over Sunday?”

“I...I don’t know,” Azriel closed his eyes briefly, “I don’t think I can.”

Elain tried not to feel too hurt about that. She understood he had a lot of obligations of his own but she had been looking forward to baking at her house. “That’s fine,” she said, even though it wasn’t, “Will I see you later today?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” he spun around to face her, his eyes blazing with sudden conviction, “I can’t see you anymore.”

“What?” Elain blinked, her mind processing the information too slowly.

“I can’t see you anymore.” Azriel repeated. “I need to focus on work.”

Elain could see that wasn’t the only reason but the man turned away before she could say anything else. “I have to go.” He said, pushing past her.

“Azriel, wait-” Elain called after him.

But he was already gone.

\---

Rhys preferred the deafening silence over his father’s fits. Usually his father would stalk past him and ignore him, scorning him by pretending he didn’t exist. Those days weren’t too bad, since Rhys liked it when his father didn’t pay attention to him. It meant he could do whatever he pleased.

But when his father was in a rage, any little thing could set him off. Rhys knew he had to stay home today or risk returning with his father ready to beat him to a pulp. Usually if his father was angry, it was because Rhys had gotten a scholarship to university in Design, or because Rhys was paying a large portion of Azriel or Cassian’s bills.

Today it was not about him. The moment Rhys came down into the living room, he found his father seated calmly on the couch, waiting for him.

Rhys paused on the last step, his hand resting on the railing.

“You’re finally awake,” his father said, already looking disappointed.

Rhys ran through what he had been doing the last few days and couldn’t locate any moment where his father would get mad at him. He stayed silent, not wanting to set off his father with the wrong words.

“Did you know I was meant to have an appointment yesterday?” Rhys’s father asked, his voice nonchalant.

Rhys swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I.” His father said pleasantly. “And it seemed my manager didn’t know either.”

 _Oh no._ Rhys bit back a curse. Lucien had been faltering in his work lately, the long hours and his difficult relationship with his brother making it hard for him to keep up. Rhys often tried to help him by filing away some of the appointments and organizing the documents Lucien didn’t understand.

But Rhys had been distracted himself, with his concern about Mor, his worry for Cassian and Azriel, and his love for Feyre. If Rhys was being honest, he hadn’t set too much time aside for Lucien or his father’s work and he had neglected his friend. 

“Are you sure the file wasn’t just buried under all the appointments that you already have?” Rhys asked, even though he knew his father didn’t have so many appointments in one day that he would be able to miss one.

“It should have been put on my calendar as well,” his father reminded him, “but not only did I not find a file, there was no mention of the appointment on my calendar. I do not like to turn down potential clients without even seeing them first.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys said, even though it technically wasn’t his fault. He wondered if he could somehow get his father angry at him and take whatever punishment was obviously intended for Lucien. Rhys’s bruise from last week had healed but his face still throbbed slightly at the thought of enduring another one of his father’s beatings.

“Don’t be so pathetic,” his father snapped, “you aren’t at fault for once. I do hate it when you try to grovel for others.”

“I’ll talk to Lucien,” Rhys tried again, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t make this mistake again.”

His father stood, brushing invisible lint off his jacket. “Don’t bother; he’s fired.”

Shock made Rhys grip the railing harder. “Fired?”

“Are you hard of hearing?” His father paused at the door, his hand resting on the knob. “Lucien is terrible at his job. I need a better manager.”

“It was my fault,” Rhys blurted out, “I--”

“Save your words; I’m not going to change my mind.” His father was already out the door. Rhys stared after him and closed his mouth before slamming his fist into the wall next to him.

He knew it hadn’t exactly been his fault and that he should have found a better job for Lucien in the first place, but Rhys still felt guilty. Sometimes he just wished he could find somewhere to deposit all his friends and keep them safe. It seemed as if there was no end to their suffering.

He couldn’t watch over all of them forever.

\--- 

“Cassian!” He had been staring off into the fountain when he heard someone shout his name. He half-turned and spotted Nesta running towards him, still in her nurse outfit. She must have just come from work but it was the middle of the day--she should still be at work. 

“What’s wrong?” He rose from his seat and spun to face her. She was panting heavily and Cassian caught her by the shoulders, “Nesta, what’s wrong?”

“Your mother,” she breathed out.

Cassian froze. He wished he had not stood up because he had to grip Nesta’s shoulder even harder to stay upright. The past year of fretting over his mother flashed before his eyes and Cassian felt fear seize his heart.

“What about my mother?”

She was still trying to catch her breath and Cassian couldn’t help but shake her a little. “Nesta,” he began, “please--”

The action caused her to rip herself from his grasp and he found himself bending over to clench the back of the bench. “You should come with me to the hospital right now.”

“Why?” Cassian couldn’t bear to look up into Nesta’s stoic face. He was afraid of the answer, “What’s wrong with her?”

Nesta hesitated again, “It’s nothing much,” she tried to reassure him, “but I don’t want to take any chances. I’d feel better if you were here to see her.”

Cassian tried to take a few deep breaths, to calm himself down. His vision swam in his panic and he couldn’t quite hear Nesta anymore. His knuckles turned white from gripping the bench so hard.

“Cassian? Cassian!” Nesta grabbed his shoulders and turned him around so he was sitting on the bench again. “Calm down. Nothing has happened yet and nothing _will_ happen. Your mother is fine, and if you are not up to the task of seeing her today, then maybe you shouldn’t.”

“Of course I’m going to see her,” Cassian looked up wildly at Nesta, “I have to.”

Nesta’s blue-gray eyes were hard. “Then let’s go.”

Cassian ignored the hand she offered for help and stumbled along side her. His mind was still spinning and he couldn’t suppress the panic deep in his chest. “You’re sure she will be all right?” He asked, persistent in this. He had to know if his mother was going to die.

“You’ve known for months the answer to that question,” Nesta glanced at him sparingly, “don’t ask me something I cannot give you a definite answer to.”

He wasn’t sure what set him off. Maybe it was Nesta’s vague answering about his mother’s health or maybe it was just his anxiety. But when Nesta deflected his question with a flippant answer, Cassian couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next.

“God, couldn’t you just be a bit more sympathetic about this?” He all but shouted, “My mother is dying but what would you know about that? I--”

Nesta’s face was stone when he turned to her and she stiffened her shoulders. “What would I know about that?” She repeated, her own anger flaring now, “My mother died a few years ago. My father turned out to be a useless fool who couldn’t take care of my sisters and I so we had to find a new place to live. You think I don’t know about your struggles? But at least I’m not moping around and sulking like a dog. I’m making a life for myself and actually working to earn money unlike you. What have _you_ done for yourself?”

It was too much for him. “I didn’t choose this life,” he ran his hands through his hair several times, agitated, “You think I wanted to be homeless?”

“Yes!” Nesta stared back at him furiously, “I think you refused to fight back because you think you deserve this! You think you can’t get a job and figure out how to pay your mother’s bills and get the life you want? You’re not even trying!”

“Trying? What is there to try?”

“All you do is let Rhys pay for your damn bills and you just go around, complaining about your misfortune and not doing a thing to put yourself back together. This is life, Cassian! Maybe if you could see that, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Don’t talk to me about Rhys like you know him,” Cassian said, his hands shaking, “You don’t--you don’t understand.”

“No,” Nesta agreed, “I don’t.”

She marched ahead, no longer bothered with leading him towards the hospital. Cassian stared after her, every hurtful word she had said biting into his skin. He knew he should keep following her and go see his mother, but Cassian couldn’t face reality right now. He didn’t want to think about whether or not Nesta was right about him giving up on his life.

He turned sharply around and headed straight for the slums of the city, his shoulders hunched, his head ducked down, anger washing away any reason he might have had left in him.

\---

Rhys was smiling again, and Feyre felt a thrill of pride and happiness at the sight. When he had agreed to come with her out into the city tonight, he had a look of utter despair painted on his face. Feyre knew immediately she would do everything she could think of to make him smile.

“Where do you want to go?” Rhys asked as they trailed along the side of the Sidra. Velaris was beautiful at night, and Feyre wanted to drink in every detail as they walked.

“Show me your favorite thing about this city.”

“My favorite thing?” Rhys’s brow furrowed and Feyre knew he was thinking hard about it. Her heart hurt as she realized Rhys was hesitating because he truly didn’t know what he loved about the city.

She waited patiently for him to think of somewhere before he finally tugged her along and began walking again. There was so much to love about this city and Feyre was determined to help Rhys find it.

They talked about aimless things as they walked, but Feyre didn’t mind. Rhys relaxed when he talked about design and his love for architecture and how he might go into it depending on how he felt in his classes. Like Feyre, it would be his second year in college during the fall.

It took ten minutes to get to a beautiful golden bridge that stretched over the river. Rhys walked her to the top of the bridge and pointed to the view of Velaris that sprawled beyond it.

“It’s breathtaking,” Feyre told him, because it was.

“I come here when I need to think,” Rhys admitted, “it’s the only view of the city I truly love.”

Feyre smiled up at him and after a bit, Rhys smiled a little back. Another victory for her. “The city is beautiful,” she said, “I think there’s a lot more you’ll learn to love one day.”

He looked at her, only a bit incredulously because he was used to her telling him this. She knew what he was thinking, that he had lived here his whole life and had never loved a single piece of the city, but she also knew it was only because of his father.

“This isn’t my favorite thing of the city.” Rhys said suddenly.

“No?” Feyre started to frown but Rhys spun her around and slipped one hand through her hair, playing with it.

“No,” Rhys said firmly and he leaned down to kiss her, “You are.”


	13. Desolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after Feyre had visited Velaris to see if she could get her art featured in an art studio, the Archeron sisters decide to move to Velaris for good so that Nesta could settle into the new job she acquired and Feyre could finally check out the art studio Rhys had given her the address to. The three sisters find themselves in a bustling city where everything was possible: riches, dreams, and shattered hopes.
> 
> WARNING: deals with sensitive materials such as depression and abuse
> 
> Sequel to The Perfect Day.

The text came at 1:00 AM.

 **FEYRE:** Nesta said she doesn’t know where Cassian is.

Rhys stared at his phone, unable to comprehend why that mattered. Why would Nesta need to know where Cassian was? They didn’t even like each other.

 **RHYS:** Nesta almost never knows where Cassian is.

 **FEYRE:** Azriel says he hasn’t seen him all day either.

Now that was a bit more troubling. Azriel had rooms from Hybern for the whole week. It was late at night and Rhys was only awake because he couldn’t sleep from stressing about work for Lucien. He sat up in bed and raked a hand through his unkempt hair.

 **RHYS:** Where is Azriel now?

 **FEYRE:** At my apartment. I think Nesta went to go find him after she finished work earlier. She and Cassian got into a fight. Azriel showed up just a few minutes ago saying Cassian hasn’t come to the hotel yet.

Rhys cursed.

 **FEYRE:** Az didn’t want me to tell you.

Of course not. Azriel was always trying to let Rhys rest even though he knew it would worry Rhys more if he learned of this in the morning. He grabbed a sweater and threw on more suitable sweatpants for outside. Stuffing his feet into his shoes, Rhys grabbed his car keys.

 **RHYS:** I’m heading over to your apartment right now. Tell Azriel to wait for me.

Ten minutes later he was blearily stumbling into the lobby of the apartment where Azriel was waiting. Nesta and Feyre were there as well, though there was no sign of Elain. Rhys would have thought she would have wanted to see Az.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Azriel greeted Rhys.

“I was already awake,” Rhys sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “Does anyone have any idea where Cassian is?”

Nesta looked uncomfortable. “Where does he go after he’s upset?”

Rhys exchanged a look with Azriel. “He’s always been good at staying upbeat about things,” Rhys admitted, “and if he does mope, he comes home before midnight. Whether that be my house or the hotel or just wherever he and Az are camping for the night.”

Nesta sank down in one of the chairs, defeated. 

“What did you two argue about?” Feyre asked her sister.

“Stupid things,” Nesta sighed. When she didn’t elaborate, Feyre gave her sister a hard look. “Why does it matter?”

“It would help us to know where Cassian is if we know what the argument was about,” Azriel explained.

Nesta buried her hands in her face briefly before looking back up. “When I was at work, one of the doctors told me that Cassian’s mother’s condition was getting worse. He had noticed that I was always the nurse tending to her now so he thought I would know where her son was to let him know. I immediately went looking for Cassian and found him in the park, but when we were heading back, we got into an argument. We both said things we probably shouldn’t have said.”

Rhys couldn’t imagine why either of them would get into a fight when it was clear Cassian needed to get to the hospital. But Nesta and Cassian never went anywhere without arguing so Rhys decided not to ask for further information.

He exchanged looks with Azriel. Like the two of them, Cassian wasn’t good at talking about his problems, so any mention of his mother usually meant he didn’t talk for a whole day. Rhys had learned not to ask about her unless he needed to pay the bills.

“I think I know where he is.” Azriel crossed his arms. “But I hope I’m wrong.”

Rhys had a bad feeling about this. He closed his eyes and only opened them when he felt a hand on his arm. Feyre was standing next to him. He smiled weakly at her, knowing she was asking if he wanted her to come along. He shook his head. He didn’t want Feyre going anywhere near where him and Azriel were headed tonight.

“Rhys,” Azriel called from where he was already standing at the entrance, “we should go.”

Rhys gave Feyre a quick kiss before he turned and headed to his car. They were silent as Rhys drove until he parked at the bar.

“Do you want to stay here?” Azriel asked.

Rhys answered by shoving open the door and stalking into the bar. He glanced around the dim room and spotted Cassian slumped in one of the booths, alone. Without waiting to see if Azriel was behind him, Rhys headed straight for his friend.

He yanked him up by the collar. Cassian startled awake, confused and slightly angry. “What the hell--?”

“We’re leaving,” Rhys snarled.

“Leaving?” Cassian was out of his grasp in a second. “No way. I didn’t ask you two to come babysit me. I’m staying here for the night.”

“You smell of beer and piss and in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have any money to pay for all this damn beer.” Rhys felt his anger boiling over. He had never felt so furious. “God, Cassian, why are you here? I can’t--I can’t see you like this.”

He turned like a caged animal and went straight to the front to pay for Cassian’s drinks and didn’t take a deep breath until he had his car door open and was at the wheel. For a second, he thought about driving off and leaving Cassian to fend for himself.

He only waited because Azriel was there as well and Rhys rested his head against the steering wheel. 

Because it was starting to feel as if the world was crumbling around him, Rhys couldn’t help but let the tears fall.

\---

Mor looked up as the bell at the door pinged. She was greeted with a blinding smile and Andromache’s amber eyes.

“Hey!” Mor grinned back. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my favorite friend,” Andromache leaned on the counter, “where are all the customers today?”

Mor shrugged. “Taking a day off I guess.”

Andromache began browsing through the racks, putting random clothes off. “I’m going to try these on,” she called out to Mor, who waved her off. She knew her friend was only doing this to help with business.

“You don’t have to,” Mor said when Andromache came back out and declared she would take the skirt and the cardigan before hanging the blouse back up.

“Nonsense, I needed new clothes anyway.”

“You always look nice.” Mor couldn’t help but say.

Andromache flashed her a brilliant smile. “So do you.”

Something warm fluttered in Mor’s chest, but she ignored it as she punched in the numbers for the clothes. Andromache handed her the money and as Mor was getting the change out, Andromache waved her off. “Keep it.”

“I can’t--” Mor protested.

Andromache ignored her and admired some of the jewelry placed in the counter instead. They were Amren’s collection, donated from a small jewelry shop she owned down the street. “Do you want to go to lunch with me?”

“Right now?” Mor blinked.

“Sure,” Andromached checked her phone, “it’s twelve after all.”

“Elain and Amren--”

“Have it covered.” Andromache cut in. She glanced around pointedly at the store. “I think you can take the day off, Mor, or at least take a lunch break.”

“Elain is going to get bread for us soon.” Mor said.

“And I want to get lunch now.”

Mor frowned at Andromache’s persistence. “Come on,” Andromache flashed her another smile that made Mor want to drop everything and go, “it’ll only be for two hours. The shop can handle itself while we’re gone.”

Mor sighed and relented. “All right.”

She ducked to the back to tell Elain she was going out for lunch and would be back soon, and the younger girl just smiled at her. “Is that Andromache out there?”

“Yeah,” Mor shifted on her feet.

“Have fun then,” Elain almost looked gleeful.

Mor muttered a thanks and headed back out the door to where Andromache was waiting. “Where to?” She asked, grabbing her purse and keys to the shop before closing the door behind her.

“I was thinking we could go to Rita’s.”

“For lunch?” Mor asked in disbelief. The bar had food, she knew, but Mor only went there because she knew the owner and knew that it was where other people like her went at night to be themselves.

“Why not?” Andromache looked relaxed and carefree, “I mean, it’s not like it’s _just_ a bar.”

Mor shrugged and allowed Andromache to take her along. She was content to just be here with her best friend, not worrying about anything other than what they were going to eat for lunch. Mor loved going to Rita’s, but she didn’t know Andromache went there as well. It made her wonder if she hadn’t been imagining every little gesture Andromache made.

Lunch at Rita’s was better than Mor imagined, but maybe it was because Andromache’s presence made everything seem so much better. She looked especially pretty today, and Mor found herself admiring everything about her best friend.

Finally, when they were about to leave the bar, Andromache stopped her. “I really enjoyed that.”

“Me too,” Mor said, looking shyly down at her feet, “thanks for convincing me to come out.”

Andromache tilted her head back with warm fingers. “I wasn’t going to go to lunch without you. Not when I always want to go.”

“What are best friends for?” Mor tried to joke, but she couldn’t muster a proper laugh with Andromache so close to her.

They stared at each other, brown clashing with amber. Mor could see the flecks of gold in her friend’s eyes and she found herself leaning forward ever so slightly. Then, before she could react or pull away, Andromache’s lips were on hers.

 _Oh._ This was what it felt like to kiss her. Mor’s lips parted in surprise and her arms wrapped around Andromache’s waist to pull her in closer. _Oh._

It was everything and more. When Andromache pulled away, there was a small smile on her face. “God,” she whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that since last year.”

Mor only pulled her in again, hungry for another kiss, now that the barrier had been broken, and Andromache happily obliged.

\---

“Next!” Nesta called.

She was volunteering in the soup kitchen again, in hopes of seeing Cassian. Rhys had texted Feyre this morning, telling her that he and Azriel had found Cassian, but there was no other information other than that. Nesta had been unable to sleep after that and had tossed and turned all night.

Her eyes scanned the line again as she mindlessly scooped some of the pasta onto the next person’s plate. None of the men looked anything like Cassian, and Nesta felt her shoulders sag slightly.

 _Stop it,_ she scolded herself, _why do you care so much about him anyway?_

She told herself she only wanted to check on him because she had been cruel to him yesterday, throwing his mother’s condition back at him. But Nesta knew, deep down, she felt something for Cassian.

As the afternoon went on, there were still no signs of Cassian. Even as the line dwindled and Nesta and the other workers began to clean up, Cassian still didn’t show up. Nesta tried to hide the disappointment that she felt, but it was hard to keep up the chatter with her fellow workers.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind her and Nesta spun around.

Azriel was leaning on the wall behind her, watching her with hazel eyes. “What are you doing here?” Nesta blinked at him.

“Just wanted to come see how you were doing.” Azriel shrugged. “And here.” He handed her a small package that felt suspiciously like a container. There was a rose taped to the top. “Can you give that to Elain for me?”

Nesta almost asked why he couldn’t give it to her himself, but Azriel was already moving on from the subject. “He’s at home.”

She nearly flinched. “Why are you telling me that?”

“Thought you’d want to know.”

“His location is none of my concern.”

“Last night proves differently.”

Nesta stiffened. “Thank you for letting me know where he is but frankly he can do whatever he wants. I only showed my concern yesterday because you showed up without a clue where he was. Am I not allowed to be concerned for friends?”

“Are we your friends?” Azriel looked amused, “I would have thought you wanted nothing to do with any of us.”

Nesta flushed. “Of course you guys are my friends.”

Azriel shrugged as he pushed off the wall. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s pretty sorry about yesterday.”

“I don’t care.” Nesta bit back.

After Azriel left, Nesta finished wiping down the tables and headed inside to sign out. She decided she would ask to leave her shift early so she could go home and sleep off whatever she was feeling.

“Ms. Archeron?” She turned at the sound of her name, confused by the sound of the older man’s voice.

It was the doctor who worked in the west wing, the wing Nesta was usually helping out in. “You are the nurse Dr. Lisbon said nursed for Mrs. Reyes, correct?”

Cassian’s mother.

“Yes,” Nesta said hesitantly.

The doctor pushed up his glasses and gave her a pitying look that almost had Nesta backing up into the wall. She wanted to escape and not let him tell her whatever he was going to tell her. In her heart, she knew it was going to be bad.

“I’m sorry...but we have no other way to contact her son. Would you be able to find him?”

“Probably,” Nesta said, “I mean yes.”

The doctor sighed. “It pains me to tell you this but would you please tell him that Mrs. Reyes passed away last night.”


End file.
